Rise of the Phoenix
by Gothika Angel01
Summary: After the fall of the Destroyer, and the resurrection of Mankind, The Horsemen of the Apocalypse receive word from the counsel that there is yet another conspirator attempting to reek havoc upon the Three Kingdoms. Now, the time has come to call upon ancient powers, far beyond anything the Horsemen could ever know, and The Phoenix has the power to unleash it and save them all.
1. Awakened

**Author's note:****total disclaimer, i don't own any of the Darksiders characters, locations, anything. I do, though, own all of the Oc's for this story :P**

**suck on that**

* * *

><p>The Well of Souls. A supernatural gate guarded by the Archangel, Azrael. The souls of the dead are channeled there and none leave without Azrael's knowledge.<p>

Until now.

Normally, Azrael is ever present and aware of all activity within the well, but he has taken a leave of absence. Nobody really knows why he left, or where he went, but when news dawned upon the Pillar of Chaos, she couldn't help herself but invade. She managed to sneak through the gates of the well, and, without plummeting completely into the well, pulled two souls from its depths. She ensured that both were from the Kingdom of Man, for those were her orders. She also ensured that these souls would be released close together, for it would be difficult for one to survive without the other. These souls, however, were very different from the rest of mankind. Each soul had a different perfume, or light about them that made them special in her eyes. The first one she found glowed white. Rather strange, since most souls were of a luminescent blue shade. The last one found made her very happy. This soul glowed a bright red, burning like fire. She selected this and smiled contently at the soul.

"I'm going to give you a nice, new home my little firebird." The Pillar of Chaos spoke, tucking the souls away and departing out of the well's gates.

After The Destroyer was killed, and the seeds of Man were re-sown since the premature Apocalypse, the Kingdom of Hell was outraged at Heaven for attempting to frame them of inciting the End War. So with that, one of Lucifer's mightiest and most cunning lieutenants brought forth a terrible curse upon the kingdom of man, not by the Dark One's orders, but simply by her own rage. However, the hell-spawn's ambitions were not without, "a small chink in the armor."

* * *

><p>"Ow, damnnit…"<p>

A girl sat against a heap of rubble in the town plaza of New York City. Or, what used to be New York City. New York City was gone, now. She knew that much. She'd thought about it during their first few hours alive. Nothing remained of her home city but memories in a fringe of horror and shock. Just out of the blue, all the monsters you can imagine and then some rose up from the earth and raged battle against what seemed to be angels. The industrial section is gone. The factories and warehouses, district offices and schools, hotels, broadcasting stations, and hospitals are all gone. Only the remains of dwelling houses and street signs reminded Scout of where she was.

Mothers and fathers tell their children not to fear monsters, for they do not exist. That's a bold face lie. She knew that now, but there were still many things not even the adults knew. She remembered all that happened, but couldn't piece these events together. All of the monsters and slaughter, the bus, the demon attacking her brother, and the man with the giant sword. She was sure that all of those horrific events had ended her petty existence, sure all of that had killed her. No, she wasn't killed by a demon,or an angel, a building simply collapsed on top of her and crushed her, but she was still supposed to be dead.

But she was here. Alive and well. Crushed in every sense of the word, but alive.

As of now, Scout was picking bits and pieces of glass out of her left leg and crying to herself. She must have fallen, or something. From the kneecap down, she was covered in blood and scrapes, cuts and bruises. It hurt, but that didn't stop her. It'd get infected then. She thought about just washing it off in a puddle, but that wouldn't be smart either.

"There has to be something around here to take care of this…" Scout said to herself, examining her surroundings.

It didn't look like there would've been anything. Or anyone. The place she had found herself in seemed completely void of any life whatsoever, she was certain she wouldn't find anything here. So, she decided to move on, ripping part of her shirt off from the seam on the upper left side and wrapping her leg up as best as she could. She then skimmed around the gas station. There was probably some peroxide inside, or so she thought. But she went on inside to look anyway.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing inside.

"Son of a bitch…"

There was nothing there but rubble, dried up blood, and what looked like shotgun shells littered across the floor. The only object in motion was a nodding piece of cloth nailed to the far corner of the cracked counter. Scout shoved past some rusty old shelves and kicked around some bricks and glass. She looked around some, soon humming contently at what she found. A small hatch in the floor. This was a family operated gas station, so those were common. She reached down to open it; thank God it wasn't locked, and was met with the crack and clatter of wooden steps being suspended from the hatch's side down to the floor. She gently placed a foot on the first step, getting a loud creaking sound, but the step didn't cave in. She slowly descended into the basement area and, with only the light from the hole she had crawled out of, she found some things she may find useful.

A army-tagged duffle bag that was filled up to the top with first-aid supplies. Upon this revelation, Scout immediately began pouring peroxide onto her leg and wrapping herself in gauze. She then tried her damnedest to stuff any other thing she could make use of into the bag, and made her way up to the ladder to depart.

Scout had made a pretty good find at the gas station. The people who owned the joint must have been preparing for the end of the world or something. Oh, real funny, she thought to herself. Everything was in ruins. Just about dead, destroyed, totaled, or worse. Buildings had been rendered to nothing but heaping piles of rubble with zigzag cracks that looked to be a hundred feet long, the normally busy and crowded streets of New York Scout once knew were completely void of any life, and everywhere she went, she was met by the stench of burned rubber, and something that smelled like straight up death, mixed with the lonely whistle of the mid-summer winds.

It broke her heart. Everything she ever knew was destroyed. She was alone here, or so she thought. Later that same day, she had followed the streets back to her home on the outskirts of Manhattan, only to find a burnt down, beaten up remnant of bricks and glass shards where her foster home used to stand.

She stepped inside cautiously, walking through the hulking hole where the front door would've been, taking a brief look wall part of the ceiling seemed to open and shut twice, like a ragged, plaster-made mouth. Bricks and plaster, as well as metal beams collected all over the grounds, almost tripping her at times.

Nobody.

There was absolutely nothing. No pictures, no furniture, not even a piece of carpet or tile from the floor.

"A-April?" Scout would whisper, hoping she might receive a response, if not from her foster mom, but from someone for God's sake. "Jack? Ronald? Connor? D-Daniel?" she called her foster brothers off one by one. _Hello? Hellohellohello, France? Oh my fucking god..._

No one.

She didn't need bones or blood or fragments of a dead body to know that her family was dead and gone. She mourned for the longest time, wishing she could go upstairs and climb into her room, leap into her bed, bury herself in her blankets and cry until she fell asleep. Her room was gone though. And more importantly, so were the stairs.

She didn't like to cry, so she got angry. No gloves though. She stormed out of that pile of dirt and bricks and began furiously punching the first tree she saw. She had this tantrum for a while, but when her knuckles grew red and bloody, her body told her it was time to stop. Scout had anger issues. This was as apparent as the sun in the sky. She wished she hadn't done that, but since she had a first-aid kit, she guessed it was all good.

She wandered around town for a number of hours, but when it grew dark, she knew she had to stop and sleep somewhere. She camped out for the night on what she thought was a public bench, tucked underneath what felt like a truck or something. It was too dark for her to see what it really was, but she didn't feel like walking around any longer, so she stayed put. There were no street lights either, and she didn't really like the idea of going out on the town in the pitch black night.

The following day, Scout woke up to the sound of a phone ringing. For sure, she could never mistake that sound; the classic, unmistakable "ring, ring" that had always gotten everyone's attention, especially in times like this. (not that Scout had ever been in this situation before.)

She'd nearly fallen flat on her face in the concrete at such an alarm, yet when she found the source of the sound, she regained her composure. It was a payphone on the other side of the street. No cars or crowds. Scout made it over there in a hurry, running like a bat out'ta hell to get to it in time. The thought of hearing another person's voice made her so happy, she wanted to cry. She quickly picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello?" She attempted to sound as if she hadn't ran like hell. Her throat burned with the effort.

"Phoenix?" A female voice answered back. Scout didn't know this voice, although the musical, gregarious, and sweet tone of it gave some solace. But, how'd this chick know her name?

"Can I ask who I'm speakin' to?" Scout asked as politely as she could.

"My name is Eris. I'm a friend."

"What?"

"I'm the reason you're here Phoenix Ann Michelle." Eris said.

Scout's mouth snapped shut. She had no clue who this Eris chick was, or how she knew her, and apparently, where to reach her. "Wait, what?"

"Look around Scout. What do you see?"

Okay, now she was being toyed with. "What do I see? NOTHING! There's nothing! Everything's gone!" Her face went near crimson.

"Okay, now, what do you remember?"

"Huh?"

"From before you woke up. What do you remember?"

Scout thought for a moment. She didn't want to recall on the horrific memories of being perused by hordes of monsters, terrified for her life and the lives of her family. She suddenly felt sick. "Nothin'…" Scout lied.

There was a silence, and Scout didn't like it all too much. Like the silence that let you realize you were in deep trouble."Still there?" she murmured.

"I suggest you run away." Eris said at last before hanging up.

Run away? What? It took her a minute, but when Scout looked down the streets to see the shapes of what can only be described to her as half-eaten, emaciated people walking sluggishly toward her. They looked like something Scout would've seen in a zombie movie. Zombie movie?

Oh crap.

When at last the flip in the poor kid's head switched on to the realization, she ran across the street, picked up her bag and ran away as fast as she could. She sprinted for a good eight minutes before stopping in front of yet another destroyed building. Scout was entirely out of breath and she was trembling like one of those ugly purse dogs. Her brain was a mess. Were those really zombies? Is this like, the end of the world? Is this a nightmare? Am I still dead? What's going on?

The payphone a few feet away began to ring, which, in turn, made the poor kid jump like a rabbit in street traffic.`

Scout stared at the phone intensley. After a short period of observation, she realized there were no wires or anything hooked up to the payphone, as she remembered them to have been. There was no way this thing could've possibly be taking calls. Nevertheless, she stepped over, hesitant to pick it up and answer it.

"Hello?" she answered softly.

"Good, you outran them! A'tta girl, Scout!" It was Eris.

"Look lady, I wanna know who the hell you are-" Scout scoffed, when what she actually wanted to say was something along the lines of, _I hate you so much, lady._

"I told you silly goose, I'm Eris." She bantered, really rustling Scout's jimmies.

"Yeah, I got that. I mean _where _are you? How do you know me? _What _is going on here?"

Her face went completely red. She did this when she got sad or scared a lot of times. Rather than confessing to her fears or depression, she got angry. It was the only real way she knew how to vent without collapsing in tears. Her pride wouldn't allow herself to fall onto her knees and hide herself.

"You're a mighty curious kid, huh Scout?" Eris asked, her voice dripping with mischief.

"I've got damn reasons to be!" she shouted into the phone. "I was just chased by zombies! ZOMBIES!"

"Oh come on drama queen, they weren't chasing you; you just saw 'em and ran like a little sissy." Eris scoffed.

Scout grinded her teeth together. Those were the fight words. She could take being called anything else, but "sissy" and "girly" and "scardey" weren't her forte.

"QUIT FUCKIN' WITH MY HEAD LADY, OR I'LL-"

"You'll what Scout?" Eris teased.

Scout opened her mouth, as if to give a smart-ass comment in reply, but instead gave herself a few moments to cool herself down a bit first.

"Okay, what's happened to everybody?" Scout began once she had collected herself. "Why is the city so empty?"  
>Eris laughed, making her even more uncomfortable.<p>

"They're all dead. Or, as of now, undead." She replied.

Shocked and disturbed by this revelation, Scout huffed and proceeded to question this mysterious woman.

"Dead? All of New York?"  
>"Almost. I think there's one more still running around… they won't last long though… that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, you have to find the other one and protect her..." Eris interrupted.<p>

Scout didn't believe what she was hearing.

"No. This has to be some kind of trick-"  
>"Not a trick dear."<p>

Scout was silent for about several seconds. "How?"

"What now?"  
>"How could everyone on earth just up-an' die?" she heartily asked.<p>

"You won' believe me if I told you." Eris chuckled.

Scout felt a gut-wrenching sensation in the pit of her stomach. She looked around, not seeing any more zombies or anything. Just a few crows and some trash floating about.

"Have you read Revelations dear?" Eris asked sweetly when she next spoke.

"What? You mean "The Bible" Revelations? Hell naw, I don' believe in God…" she huffed.

"You don't?" Eris asked, her interest in the child must've peaked a bit. "Then what do you believe?"

"I believe that if I can see it and touch it, it's real." She scoffed lowly.

"Well, it's true baby. All of it. Only, that's not completely what happened on earth."  
>"Wudda you mean?"<p>

"Well-" Eris took a breath. "Once upon a time, three omniscient beings known as the charred counsel were left in charge by the Creator, or as you call him, God. The Charred Counsel hand-picked four individuals from an ancient race known as the Nephilim to serve them in exchange for unlimited power, those four beings being the Four Horsemen: Death, Strife, Fury, and War. These four little monsters were left in charge of preserving the balance by enforcing a shaky truce made between Heaven and Hell so mankind, that's you guys, could grow and thrive."

Scout deadpanned at this new information. Raising a silver brow and snorting insolently through the phone.

"Then one faithful day, about 100 years or so ago, the armies of Heaven and Hell fought the End War on earth due to six of the seven seals being prematurely broken. When all seven seals are broken, the Four Horsemen will ride forth, restoring the balance- blah, blah, blah. One goofy Horseman however, decided he could ride early, and, without his brothers, realized her was wrongly called to the Kingdom of Man."

There was a long silence.

"_What the fuck is this bitch's deal…"_

"Was that too much for you dear?" Eris asked sarcastically.

Scout said nothing. She just hung up the phone and stood there for about eleven seconds, ramrod straight, fists clenched, and face dark with anger. She then grasped the phone, pulling at it with all her might, and eventually pulling it clean off the handset, snapping the wire in two.

"Goddamn apocalypse- hmph!" She growled, soon making her way down Lincoln toward the 60.

She walked on to where the old library once stood, one of her many hangouts. It made her remember all of the times she had spent there. It made her even angrier now., and the fact that everything she knew was destroyed didn't help the matter.

It pissed her off. And with some crazy lady telling her all this crap about a premature apocalypse, and Four friggin' Horsemen…

She wanted to kick someone.

Eris must've really loved to screw around with this kid. After walking a good four miles throughout the city, she was stopped by what Scout could describe as little orange "flags" made from what looked like old rags that had been tied to the outside of particular landmarks. The recent "orange stop", as she called them, was at what she realized was the children's hospital on Southwest Main. She was surprised it was still standing. Inside the ruined building, she found some medical supplies, bottles of water, and some apples all laid out for her. At first, she was stupefied as to how these items had gotten there when there was nobody else around. But when she spotted a small note with all of the strange gifts, she knew that they were from this "Eris" character.

_I trust that these things will come in handy. Now get out of here and head utown… dummy._

_Love, Eris_

Scout officially wanted to kill this bitch. Nevertheless, she did as she was directed, not knowing of anything else to do. She left that hospital building and headed uptown.

It was just as bad as the rest of the city, but Scout had a strange feeling that Eris wouldn't have sent her here for no reason.

Unless she was just that much of a bitch.

"HELLOOOOOO?~" her voice echoed.

There was a moment of silence, and Scout was thinking about turning back, but when she heard an earth shattering war cry from way down the street, it grabbed her full attention and forced her to turn back around.

She didn't really like what she saw though.

Her eyes were met by the form of a hideous monstrosity with huge yellow teeth, spiny skin, huge, sunk in, glowing yellow eyes, and it seemed to be adorned in chains. It was by far, the ugliest and most horrifying thing Scout had ever laid her eyes on.

She tried to digest it's appearance s best as she could, but rather than doing what she _knew_ she had to do and run away, her innermost thoughts poured out instead.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shouted, grabbing the monster's attention.

Bad move kid.

That huge thing started hurdling right for her. She knew she had to run, but that thing was so big and so terrifying, she couldn't move. She couldn't scream, or anything. She just stood there. Her legs were unresponsive, her heart raced, her breaths became shallow and quick, and her soft, almond-shaped eyes were wide with an untold terror.

She just impotently stood there, preparing herself for the worst.

"_Halt beast!"_

SHOCKED, Scout turned around to see who, or what the voice came from. It was a woman. Definitely a woman. Her voice was strong and malice; mature and powerful. But what really caught the small human's attention was the fact that this particular woman was flying… with huge, sterling silver looking wings.

Fucking. Flying.

She wore what looked like powered armor and she glowed like a torch. She carried a huge sword that looked almost like a big-ass, glowing gun, and she dove for the creature. It swung its massive hands in the air in an attempt to try and catch her mid-stride, but she was quicker than it was. She shoved her blade into the creature's mouth and it roared up at her, a deafening cry of pain. She stretched her wings wide as she ripped the blade clean out of its head, huge pools and streams of blood following in its wake. The monster soon toppled over, deader than a doorknob.

Scout watched this battle silently, her face was frozen in a stupidly shocked expression.

"_An angel just killed that big-ass… thing… I'm friggin' crazy…"_

That was about all Scout could really think at this point.

The angel soon descended from the sky and turned to face Scout, looking a bit shocked. The human could now get a better look at her. Her skin was dark, almost mahogany, her eyes were a bright, glowing yellow, her figure was evenly curved, and the long, red hair framed her face almost perfectly.

She was pretty.

"Human?" the angel spoke, wrestling Scout from her brief period of admiration.

Her voice was different now. More soft and youthful. Probably since she didn't have to yell now.

Scout turned her head in all directions for a moment. She didn't say anything; she couldn't think of what to say without looking stupid.

"What?"

The angel pinched her lips together and brought her blade to her side, stepping towards Scout, who instinctively took a few steps back.

"You're human? Aren't you?" She asked again.

Still quiet, Scout simply nodded slowly.

The angel brought her free hand to her neck and let out a breath of frustration. She then observed the child in silence for about several seconds.

"What is your name child?" She asked at last.

"S-Scout." She replied after a brief period of blankness.

By sheer habit, she bravely extended her left hand. The angel was hesitant, but accepted the kind gesture nonetheless. She had a strong grip.

"Olivia." The angel said.

Scout let go and fell back a bit. Olivia seemed to be a rather fitting name.

"How are you here?" she asked.

Scout just shrugged. "I dunno. I just woke up here."

"When, just now?"

"Nope, early yesterday mornin' I think."

Olivia nodded, pacing around the human and observing her further. She wasn't sure just what it was about her, but this human was somewhat familiar to her. The way the angel was staring at her made Scout a bit nervous. She was already creeped out that an angel talking to her after killing a huge, ugly-as-fuck monster. Scout just wanted to walk away, and as she did so, she was stopped.

"You mean to tell me you just 'woke up' here, and expect me to believe that?!" Olivia snapped, making Scout jump.

"Hold the fuck up, I'm just as confused as you are. I mean, you- you're an friggin' _angel_-"

"Well, yes, I can see that… Look, wings and everything," An umber brow arched over one eye. "I guess I am an angel. You learn something new everyday."

The blonde youth didn't like that flat tone one bit. Scout felt a bit sick now that everything that had just happened had caught up with her. She placed her hands on her knees and huffed on and on, catching breaths that she hadn't even lost in the first place. All this was so stupid, she wanted to hit something so bad. _So_ bad.

"Angels. Aren't. _Real_. There's no such thing as angels, or monsters, or-or fuckin'… unicorns…" her mind was going completely blank.

"Unicorns are real-" Olivia noted. "-And I do believe that I am real as well." She paused and looked herself over. "At least I hope so…"

Scout soon looked up and into the eyes of her savior. She then laughed a bit and decided to give up all together.

"_Unicorn? Are you fucking kidding me?"_

"Look Olive," Scout started to regain her composure. "All I know is, I woke up in front of a gas station, slept on a bench, got chased by zombies, and this 'Eris' chick won't leave me the fuck alone-"

"Eris?" Olivia sounded like she knew who this kid was talking about.

"You know her? Who is she?!" Scout asked eagerly.

Olivia brought her palm to her forehead hard, a loud slap resounding. "I should've known…" she said quietly, almost to herself.

"Known what? Dude, I'm standing _right here_!"

"Pillar of Chaos… a very powerful entity. A former member of our Kingdom. She must've resurrected you."

"Huh?"

"Eris is a Trickster. A real character, if you ask me. I never met her, but I hear she's the embodiment of chaos and mischief at its finest…" She explained.

"She is currently awaiting trial in the White City for the deliberate intrusion of the Well of Souls, where you were pulled from."  
>Scout threw her head back and howled with laughter.<p>

"Well of Souls! Okay, ev-everything makes sense now!" She looked as if she was losing her mind, and Olivia could see it. "I mean, it's obvious! The Queen of crazy brought me back from the dead from the Well of Souls!" The blonde started to laugh manically. "And you must be, like, that one little angel on my shoulder that tells me what good to do so I don't screw up this second chance of mine?!" More laughter. "Is this even real life anymore?! If not, where the hell is my pink polka-dot dinosaur with ten-thousand Dalek army?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY DALEKS?!"

At this point, the angel looked a bit frightened."It's a bit too much for you, isn't it?"

Scout faced her and scowled menacingly. "Premature apocalypse? Charred Counsel? Four Horsemen? Is- am I in some kind of reenactment?" she demanded, making sure the angel could see her anger clear as day.

"Did Eris tell you of the apocalypse?" The angel asked, getting a firm huff in response. "Well, like it or not, she wasn't lying. What else did she say to you?" Olivia inquired. She started walking away, and without really putting much thought into her actions, Scout walked alongside her.

"She said somethin' about findin' another one an' keepin' her safe…"

"Do you think there might really be another human?"

"Prob'ly. Eris hasn't steered me wrong yet…" Scout replied, though she didn't really believe that Eris was that benign.

Olivia stepped down from where the road was broken off and had collected into a steep pit in the middle of the streets. She helped Scout get down with her without getting hurt.

"I didn't give it much thought earlier…" the human murmured after a long silence.

"Hmm?" Olivia looked down on her companion as she walked.

"Eris said I'd have to find another one. Human most likely… but, protect her. I don't think I can do that…"

She felt defeated at this point. Scout had no idea what was going on, why she was here, and suddenly, she was being handed the responcibility of finding some other living person and helping them to survive? This was all too much for her. She had already lost everything, and was still in the process of coping with that, despite the impossibility of everything going on around her... Scout felt so hopeless.

She felt the weight of a sudden hand on her shoulder. It was Olivia's hand. Somehow, Scout could tell Olivia must've liked her. She's been real helpful and nice, even though she'd just met her.

"Well, don't be so rash with your words human." Olivia rebuffed her, giving her a reassuring shove. "You look like a real fighter. I think you could hold your own for maybe a little while longer."

Scout was silent at that.

She'd walked and talked with that angel all day since she'd saved her. When the human finally made to depart, Olivia said to remain in contact with Eris, for she could be her best bet at staying alive. She also said she would tell her superior that she had found a human survivor on Earth and that she may return to retrieve her.

Scout marched on for a few days all on her own. She handled herself pretty well too. She had continued to receive gifts from Eris, one in particular made her _very_ happy. A sturdy wooden bow, and a set of quivers. She was a pretty good shot, but with all the time in the world to practice now, she'd gotten even better. She was once part of a rather proud high school archery team. (it's not much, but it's a start…) and if it were up to her, she would've been the team's best marksman. Every now and then, she would come across a rogue zombie near many of her hideouts and shoot 'em down easy. She'd even killed a couple of other, more stranger looking monsters she'd found running around the city. They were different from the last monster she'd seen. Must've been a pet or something.

However, being a good shot got her noticed.

In the heart of the city, another creature stirred among the human wreckage. It looked like a man, but the true identity of this creature was far more ancient. He was a behemoth of a man, adorned in miscellaneous armor and he carried a massive blade on his back. His eyes were a glowing pale blue, almost white, and his hair was white as snow. He looked around the hellish landscape, surveying the world with the senses of a full-fledged war hero. The way he looked about things appeared as if he's endured an eternity of conflict, and by all indications of anyone who knew who he was, that'd be true.

He is War, made flesh.

About a hundred years ago, he crash-landed in the center of one of these human cities and found that the armies of Heaven and Hell were waging war in the streets. Aboddon, one of many highly revered archangels, was leading Heaven's armies against Hell's numerous legions.

War remembered calling to the archangel, demanding to know where his brethren were, but Aboddon was shocked to see the Horseman on earth.

"No!-" Abaddon exclaimed."- the Seventh Seal was not broken!"

At that distraction, the archangel was grabbed by the demon commander Stragga as he emerged from the ground.

War's train of thought was interrupted when he happened to take notice of multiple demons and zombies that had been killed by something other than an angelic weapon. Or at least, any angelic weapon War had ever seen. As he examined the corpses further, he surmised that they were either inflicted by a small knife, or arrows. The knife was eliminated as an option immediately however, for a knife that small wouldn't kill a demon like this. He observed the wounds further, finding that they were, in fact, arrows. Shot from a distant range. Intrigued by this, War decided to himself that he should keep on the lookout for whoever wielded these arrows. Either angel or demon, he thought the marksmanship of this creature was rather impressive… even for him.

Right in the eye, every time.


	2. The Kids Aren't Alright

Scout ran madly from her pursuer, terrified for her life. She continued on her way through the winding streets, the Metropolis of wreckage and destruction. She'd hit a dead end a few minutes into the chase, unable to go anywhere.

_"Well, fuck… this is just great…"_

If she turned back now, he'd get her. If she didn't do something, he'd get her. She was feeling pretty screwed at this point. A huge wall of rubble and bricks stood between her, and another chance at survival. Or better yet, a chance to get away from _him._

She tried to climb up the wall with every fiber she had, every ounce of strength she possessed. But as laudable as her efforts were, it was no use. There wasn't anything stable enough for her to grab on to to be able to pull herself up and over to safety. She was about to give up, until she heard the faint "clink, clink" of his armored footsteps grow louder and louder.

Scout looked over her shoulder and gasped quietly, seeing that he was in fact _right behind her._ He was getting a little too close for comfort, and the look on his face scared her even more. It was a cold, angry glare, but his glowing blue eyes seemed to hold the wrath of a thousand angry entities. She could feel it. He drew his huge blade, why he wanted to harm her, she didn't know. All she wanted now was to get the hell out of there, or for him to just go away.

She unwillingly turned and faced the monster of a man, and started at him dead in the eyes as he drew closer. His eyes were like thin, murderous slits, terrifying the human child even more. He was only a few feet away from her now. She fell to her knees and covered her head with her hands, tucking her knees into her chest and squeezing her eyes shut. She wished that there was something, anything to keep him from killing her. Or some way to escape.

But someone was watching.

Just as War reached down to grab the child by her skull, some invisible force threw him away, sending him reeling across the streets. Scout heard him crash a little bit away and decided to make a run for it. However, she realized that the short, dusty brown denim skirt she wore was snagged on a piece of metal.

_"Fuckfuckfuckfuck- ain't nobody got time for dis shit!"_

She wrestled off her pink rubber boots and tore herself out of her skirt, only to look over and see that he was coming at her again, only angrier. She ran like crazy, shouting and cursing tenaciously as she did so. She spotted a small crawl-space between a city bus, and the remains of what she thought was Town Hall. She shoved herself inside, although the space wasn't wide enough for her to turn around. She could look over her shoulder though.

He wasn't there. Nor did she hear his footsteps anymore.

_"Must've finally lost him…"_ Scout thought, giving a relieved and exhausted sigh.

Finally, that huge-ass, crazy guy was gone. She found some solace in her triumph over the deranged angry guy. It was short-lived however. A rogue gauntlet suddenly grabbed her left ankle and tried pulling her from the crawl space. Scout screamed like a little girl, struggling to break free of his grasp. She squirmed, kicked, sprawled and fought as hard as she could, but he wasn't letting her go anytime soon. It was getting rather difficult to kick him away too, since she did everything better with her left. After a couple of well-aimed tries, she'd finally hit home, kicking him square in the chin and causing him to drop her and fall back a bit. He snarled angrily and went to draw his sword once more, but Scout, taking advantage of their surroundings, shoved him back, causing him to trip over a fallen telephone pole and land on his back with a loud "THUD!"

Before he could've done anything else, Scout was up and away, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She ran until her legs heaved and her lungs burned. Running until she arrived in one of the darkest places in the city, a place she'd only been to once in her life.

The Highlands.

Based on her "hood" knowledge, this was uptown Manhattan. Where all the rich people lived. The best hospitals, schools, stores, and pretty much everything else could only be found here. These were some pretty swanky digs.

She'd broken into one of the Uptown houses before, when she was about nine-and-a half. The house belonged to an old deaf woman, based on her foster father's account. She'd pulled off this heist with her foster parents. (third pair at the time.) but after the police showed up, which must've been because someone had seen an unfamiliar group of people break into an old, deaf woman's house and called them, they only saw two adults loading miscellaneous boxes of china, silver, and electronics into the truck of their pitch black GTO, with little Scout asleep in the backseat.

Scout surveyed the narrow streets of the Highlands as she passed through. It looked just as bad as the rest of the city. Some of the buildings weren't as bad as the places she'd seen so far however. They still looked almost habitatual. She didn't go inside any of them however. This human was scared out of her mind. Who was that guy? Why'd he try to snatch her up? What'd he want? Scout's mind flooded with questions, as well as anxieties. And with a still-developing teenage imagination, fear was hard at work in almost every way.

Her unpleasant thought were interrupted by the faintest sounds of humming. Like a child playing.

_"Great, now I'm hearing shit…"_

Deciding to ignore the sounds, she continued on deeper into the city. However, the humming grew louder and clearer with every step. It was eerie. Why would a child be humming like that, even if there was another human around? It wasn't normal.

Scout rounded the corner of a half-standing apartment complex and saw something that made her heart stop and her blood run cold. She stared at the middle of the street in both awe and utter shock.

It was a little girl. Sitting and humming happily, plucking the feathers off of a dead angel's wing. She looked as if there was nothing wrong with her; like she was okay with being in a huge city all alone and with the possibility that a monster could show up and eat her up in a heartbeat. Scout didn't feel the need to hide herself, so she quietly and carefully approached the child.

"H-hey kid-"

Without warning, the child turned and threw a large shard of glass right at Scout, and if she hadn't have moved when she did, it would've stabbed her clean in the gut. Scout fell back, and alerted to the child that she was no harm to her. This kid knew what the fuck. The child ducked behind a car and peeked out every now and then to look out at the other human. Scout pursed her lips shut and huffed a loud breath, letting her chin drop to touch her chest. "Hey, it's okay!. Scout said reassuringly. "My name's Scout." She made an attempt to try and bring the child out of hiding. "It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm no monster, I promise." Scout laughed, somewhat lightheartedly.

Nothing.

Scout was about to speak again, but was silenced by the sounds of approaching demons a few blocks away. She could never mistake those sounds. She called to the child once more, telling her that demons were coming , and eventually convinced her to come out of hiding and follow her to safety. The child did as she was told and ended up jumping right into Scout's arms, who started sprinting away as quickly as she could. She wished she'd brought her bow, but she had left everything she was carrying back in the downtown plaza… where that one freaky guy was.

Scout couldn't run very fast while holding onto the small human, so she'd set her down and stopped for a few seconds to catch her breath.

"Alright, c'mon kid!" She demanded, taking hold of the child's tiny hand tightly.

The two escaped the Highlands and stopped at a destroyed building to rest. The place Scout had found must've been a parlor, or a board room once. It looked long enough, and there was still some bits and pieces of evidence that there were books or files kept there. It was the only area of the building that hadn't already succumbed to the years or erosion and natural disasters.

"You okay kid?" Scout asked, taking a seat on the far wall out of the sunlight.

The child nodded silently.

"You have a name?"

She nodded again.

Scout had a feeling this kid was either stunned into silence, or just very shy. A lot of kids were like that. Plus, why would a sweet, little thing like this one even want to talk with some random person they'd never met before. Don't talk to strangers, the golden rule.

"You know how to talk kid?" scout asked, once again, getting a firm nod. She stood firm, patting her hands against her knees and eyeballing at all of the corners of the room. It was pretty awkward, and Scout wasn't much of a fan of awkward silences.

To her surprise, the child soon took a small rock from off of the ground and began scratching at the walls. Scout watched, wondering if there was something seriously wrong with this kid. Scratching on the walls, plucking feathers from dead angels, humming like nothing was wrong… it bugged Scout, but she observed anyway, watching the child's tiny hands hard at work etching what looked like small letters into the wall. It then became clear to her that she was in fact writing her name out for her. Try after try, until one small grey rock left a legible mark. At that, Scout walked over and began to read her sloppy four-year-old handwriting spell out _Sabrina._

"Sabrina? 'S that your name?" Scout asked, getting a firm and rather pleased nod.

"Well, that's a real pretty name. My name's Scout." She said, politely extending a hand, but rather than shaking, Sabrina dove in a tightly hugged her neck. Scout just smiled and decided to hug back after about six seconds. Maybe this kid wasn't so bad after all. She was a sweetheart. She still creeped her out, but that was alright. Kids were scary anyways.

After the short embrace, Sabrina took hold of Scout's hand and curiously looked it over, tilting her head every now and then.

"Wudda you doin?" Scout asked. Of course, she didn't get a reply. She just stared at her dirty hand, as if she was trying to…

"Are you readin' me?" the reluctant teen asked. And Sabrina smiled faintly and hummed contently. She then released her hand and peeked outside and into the streets. Scout had a lot of questions for this kid, but she knew she would never answer, and writing the answers out on the wall would probably take her forever. She was confused, and a little uneasy. Was this the kid she was supposed to find and protect? How could she do that? She'd never taken care of another living thing a day in her life! Hell, Scout could hardly take care of herself as it is! She crawled over to her duffle bag and pulled out a broken up flip-phone; One of Eris's gifts. The note that had come with it said that if she had any questions, to just press 'talk' and she'd be there. So, she did so, flipping the phone open, pressing the small green button, and placing the phone to her ear. She waited.

"Helooooo~?" the giddy voice answered.

"Hey Eris…" Scout said, disappointment and confusion flooding her voice as she spoke.

"What's the matter honey?" Eris asked sweetly.

"I-I found another one… A human, I mean…"  
>"Oooh! Fabulous! I had a gut feeling my little baby was still kicking!-"<br>"_That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about…" Scout interrupted her and her tone turned aggressive as she started to touch the subject. Eris detected it.

"Go on…"  
>"What the hell is your problem lady?" she started. " why would you bring back a sweet little baby girl and just chuck her in a city filled with monsters an' zombies an' shit?! I mean, she probably doesn't even know where she is! She could be traumatized for all I know!"<p>

"Has she told you this?"  
>scout paused for a few seconds. "No, she hasn't said a thing to me! I think she's been scared so bad, she's gone silent, ya' know?"<p>

It was quiet between the two for a while, and Eris soon gave Scout an answer she didn't like one bit.

"My reasons for bringing her here are my own."

"WHAT?! SHE'S A FRIGGIN' BABY-"

"She's eight years old. Not a baby, Phoenix."  
>"SAME DIFFERENCE!"<br>"Don't you hiss at me like that young lady!" Eris shouted angrily into the phone. Sabrina even looked up at Scout, her bright eyes asking if there was anything wrong.

"But I-"

"Listen to me: There are a few things you need to know about this child." The Chaos Queen started, sounding almost like a stricken mother. "She is very aware of what's going on, maybe even more so than you or I. she's an arrogant, sweet, well-grounded, intelligent, literate, and independent girl; Don't let her age fool you. She may look like a little mortal, but trust me, her soul is far more ancient."

Scout tried to wrap her brain around this new information, but she still made an attempt to remonstrate the idea of having a child like her run around in a hell-ravaged world with Eris vehemently, to which was of no use on Scout's part.

"I still wanna know just why we're here anyways…" Scout huffed after a long while.

"Well, you two are more powerful than any other human I've ever encountered-"  
>"Powerful? But we ain't got no powers or nothin'…"<br>"Well, you see, the seals that protected your world so long ago were to be broken when Mankind was strong enough to go on par with Heaven and Hell. Too bad that damn Aboddon came along and was all, "LOL, I CAN HAS APOCALYPSE,"and screwed you all to death-"

"That doesn't tell me anything!" Scout hissed.

"WELL SHIT KID, IF YOU'D STOP INTERRUPTING ME, I'D TELL YOU!"  
>Scout grew silent.<p>

"Jesus-mother-fucking-Christ…" Eris huffed, not sounding anything like an 'ancient, primordial goddess' or something like that.

"You two have proved to be stronger than the rest of humanity. For little Sabrina, it comes as natural as breathing. That's' probably why she's so arrogant. But no matter what, for the both of you-" she paused for a heartbeat. "-it runs in your blood."

The two mortals didn't take much time to figure out that it wasn't safe for them in that small room any longer, so they decided to embark towards the outskirts of town, hoping to find a safer place to stay and think everything through. Eris had warned however, that it had been an entire century and that much had changed.

She wasn't kidding.

After a few days of traveling, the duo was met by heavely wooded forests that looked as if they stretched on forever. Scout was pretty overwhealmed by this. She had plenty of "street smarts", but when it came to nature and things like all of this, she was clueless. Aside her anxieties over penetrating an unexplored forset with high hopes of not getting lost or eaten, Sabrina and Scout made their way into the woods. They had to eventually hide themselves from multiple demonic hordes on their way through, but other that that and the ocassional "walking in circles" predicament, they were all good. They had even discovered that those demons weren't all bad news too. Sabrina had pointed out a series of rather primative roads that had been implicitly paved through the forest and surmised that they had been made by the demons, and they may lead to an exit out of the forest. Scout began tying each orange banner to a specific landmark about half a kilometer away from each other, which she thought was a pretty clever idea.

After a few weeks of tying and marking, tracking and hunting, they soon came to a place they believed to been the heart of the forest. It was a wooded area filled with tall, grey, thickly leaved trees, and in the center of it all in a small clearing, stood a younger looking tree. It looked to be old as well however. It had lush green leaves, pale violet blossoms, some bearing friut. Niether Scout nor Sabrina had ever seen friuts looking like those before. They almost looked like small hearts. There were multitudes of small knotholes withing the tree, and a part of it sloped inwards, looking like a sloppily pitched, wooden hammock.

They wanted to climb it.

Scout told Sabrina to go ahead and climb up the knotholes in the trunck of the tree made her climb almost effortless. She quickly made her way to the slope of the huge tree, she was a bit tired, but as she looked down into the hallow of that slope, blithe tooks its place in her pale features. She waved down to her older companion and motioned her up the tree, Scout quickly complying.

"What is it?" she whispered; she could hardly see over the slope where she stood.

Sabrina hepled to pull her up and pointed down into the hallow. A neatly folded, pale yellow fleece blanket laid within the hallow, along with s few pages of notes (no doubt), a small box decorativley wrapped in a shiny, tan bow, and some bottles of water.

Gifts from Eris.

Scout was the first to lower herself inside the hallow; it was big enough for about four, maybe five people to be squeezed in, and still have just a bit of elbow room. She carefully stood beside the spread and carried Sabrina down with her. The hallow was steep enough to provide protection from intruduers, the abundance of leaves provided some shade, and the fruits looked promising.

Scout had Sabrina hold onto some water bottles, and since her tiny hands were all full, Scout held the small box by the ribbon in her mouth. She then spread the blanket out across the base of the hallow. It didn't look to comfortable to sit on. With another look around, Scout saw that there were more little knotholes on the inside of the tree, and on the far left side of the base, there was a amall crawlspace. She made use of the knotholes, having Sabrina take an individual water bottle and placing them inside, one at a time. The two then sat down and opened their box. It was filled with small little cookies. She handed the box over to the child and picked up the notes, reading them over aloud.

_"You boh have been very good survivors. I didn't think you'd last this long! Just goes to show how clever you humans are, right? I trust these rewards will be satisfactory for the both of you. Also, I planted this tree__just__for you a hundred years ago. I call it Ecanasha. This tree bears a fruit that is healthful for humans, sweet to angels, and toxic to demons. It blooms all spring and bears fruit in the summer and the fall._**_DO NOT_**_eat the fruits in the winter. They get really poisonous to all living things in the winter, so you may have to hunt during those times. (I highly recommend crows. They're filthy little scavengers, but they're good for you!) I've planted these trees all over the Three Kingdoms. so wherever you go, you'll always have someplace safe to hide out. Anyways, I wish you both the best, if you need anything, call me._

_-Love you!_

Scout then clarified to Sabrina that all of these trees might have a hiding spot. She also stated that not only could they eat this stuff, but it had many other uses as well. Like the long, wispy leaves could be used to weave and were pretty strong, the blossoms are pretty handy when it came to hygiene uses (when moist, it foams up, kinda like soap), and the hips of the blossoms could be used to heal just about any wound.

"You hungry kid?" Scout asked quietly, seeing that her little friend had been eyeballing the small box of cookies for the longest time now.

After about twenty minutes, Scout looked up through an opening in the leaves where a little sunlight peeked through. The pink, orange, and purple colors of the sky above her told her that it would be night soon. She'd stayed awake for a number of hours, watching over Sabrina as she slept. For the entire time she'd known this child, Scout felt indescribable responsibility for her well-being. She couldn't nod off just yet. However, it wasn't long before she was faced with severe fatigue. The kind of fatigue that forced this small warrior to scorn danger, to lay down her guard, and give in to unconsciousness. She was just about there, but the buzz and vibration of her broken up phone pulled her away from the brink, startling her awake. She pulled it out to answer, being sure not to wake her small companion.

"Hello?" she whispered.

"Ya get my gifts honey?" the familiarly playful voice asked.

"Yeah, I meant to call earlier, but I guess I just forgot…"

"Never mind that dear. I know you're both grateful. I'm just glad you're both safe and sound."

The adolescent child was beginning to have a change of heart for this strange woman. Ever since she'd woken up, Eris was pretty much all she had to survive. And if it weren't for her, she may have never met Olivia. She was pretty helpful and generous when needed, making her almost like some crazy aunt or something like that.

"It's been almost a month-and-a-half since your resurrection. How are you feeling darling?" Eris asked kindly.

"I'm not really sure." She started, shrugging and looking around at the pitch-black tree. "I guess I'm okay…"

"Have you learned anything at all?"

Scout had to think about this. _Did I learn anything?_ _What does she mean?_ It took her a little bit, but a thought soon wormed its way into her hood-rat mind

"I think it has something to do with your gifts. Every gift is given for a reason… We can't choose which ones we get, only what we do with 'em…"  
>"How so?" Eris asked, and Scout could hear the sliver of pride in her voice.<p>

"Well, ever since I woke up here, you've done nothin' but screw around with me, help me along, stuff like that. I didn't like it at first, I'll admit to that, but now that you ask me, an' I actually think about it, I realize that all you were doing was to help me out. Plus, I think justwakin up here was a gift all on it's own…" She paused for a breath and gave a short, rather disappointed sigh. "I'm sorry for being such an ass th' last few times ya' called…" Scout apologized, and she could've sworn she felt like she was smiling at her.

"Water under the bridge baby. You're all good… I'm glad you see things that way now. Maybe, this is a chance to reinvent yourself- which by the way you interact with Sabrina, you've already started doing so."

She must've noticed, somehow, that Scout was being very attentive to her child, treating her as if she was her own.

"Maybe I do need to grow up some…" Scout replied solemnly, yawning a bit.

"You're tired baby, get some sleep."

"You gonna call tomarrow?"

"We'll just have to see, okay baby?"

"Okay… Goodnight Eris."

"Night Phoenix."

Scout put her phone back into her front pocket and glanced down at Sabrina's small head. She could hardly make out the silhouette of her raven black hair against the blackness of their surroundings. She then smiled at her, softly kissed the top of her head, held her close and laid down completely. She was asleep within moments, nothing but the sounds of Sabrina's faint mumbling, the crickets playing their symphonic tunes outside of the tree, and the wayward sounds of the forest.


	3. Separation

_Things were really tough for me since I woke up. I've been having nightmares, about that day. The day when everything went to hell, literally. They make me sick. I can't really sleep, I don't wanna eat, or think. It makes me lose my focus. I have to stop though; I have to focus for Sabrina. If I screw up, like I always do, I could lose her. I can't let myself do that. Not to her._

* * *

><p>When Scout woke up the following morning, her knees were numb and for some reason, her ears rang. She'd slept deeper than the dead that night, and the fact that she didn't have any dreams made things all the more better. She rose up slowly and stretched, her joints popping loudly. She rubbed her eyes and looked up from the tree into the morning sky. Sort of cloudy. She turned her head to look down at Sabrina, still sleeping. She looked so serene this way; knees tucked to her chest, and hands cradled her head. She looked so peaceful. Scout could feel herself smiling. She rubbed her charcoal black hair from the child's pale face, tracing her finger along her perfect, pitch black brows.<p>

Scout stood up for a moment, thinking to climb the tree and pick some of the fruit she'd read about the night before. Her stomach growled at her. She reached up to grab a thick branch to hoist her upward. A faint rustling a bit away caught her attention, stopping her dead in her tracks. She knew there were demons in these woods, and that they would come at her if she were to be seen. She watched every movement as a potential threat. She knew that sooner or later, they would come, and the uncertainty of when gnawed at her concentration. She listened closely as the sounds grew louder and louder; coming closer and closer. She knelt back down and shook Sabrina awake, shushing her to remain quiet. She never would've made any noise though.

Something was coming.

Scout could hear the voices and footsteps of an origin somewhat familiar to her get closer and closer. She looked down at Sabrina to see her face was dark with anger. It was a disturbing anger. The opposite presence she felt from what a sweet child like her should be looking like when faced with the horrendous sounds lurking toward her. Scout knew she had some kind of "Sight Beyond Sight" thing going on, which further confounded her anxieties.

"What is it?" she asked, despite the child's silence.

Sabrina started climbing out of the hollow to peek her head up over the edge. Scout followed in her wake and was nowhere relieved at what she saw.

Monsters. Monsters everywhere; covering every inch of the clearing that surrounded their tree. Both girls climbed back down into the hollow and listened in on what they were all saying or doing. Sabrina was uncomfortably calm and collected in this situation. Any other child of her age in their right mind would be terrified, if not crying like a little baby. She wasn't however.

"This tree," Scout flinched at the sheer brutality and malice behind the terrifying voice. "It is a sign! The Mistress of Chaos placed this here! The mortals must be close!" it hollered over the immense hoard of monstrosities.

"Search the tree! They may still be hiding!" another voice yelled.

Scout nearly panicked; she could hear them start scratching their way up the tree, and she was forcing herself to think fast. She grabbed her bow and pack of quivers, slinging them over her shoulder quickly. She shoved Sabrina into a small crawlspace and ordered her to stay quiet and hide. Before she could cast a backward glance, something had grabbed Scout's hair, howling and shouting with a sardonically morbid delight.

"We have one!" the monster shouted, receiving an echo of demonic cheers and hoots in reply.

The monster threw Scout out of the tree and onto the ground with a loud thud. It had knocked the air out of her lungs on impact. Sabrina heard her cry out in pain.

She scrambled around for a bit, but quickly regained her composure. She leapt up onto her feet and pulled an arrow from her pack, bringing it to her bow with a swiftness. She shot at will, not thinking to aim for any particular target, and hit a rogue demon at close range right in the eye. She'd killed it.

Right after she did so, one of the larger demons grabbed her bow clean out of her hands and snapped it in two in its huge, calloused fists. It tossed the remnants of the bow to the side and made for the child again, but she fought back, slashing at the monster with an arrow. She waved the weapon back and forth, until finally impaling the monster in the arm with it. It roared in pain and delivered a powerful blow to her side, sending her flying across the clearing and slamming her into the brush. Rather than trying to remove the arrow from the left bicep muscle, the monster continued on the where Scout had landed, grabbing her up by her hair and lifted her a good three feet off of the ground, slamming her head back into a tree.

"WHERE ARE THE OTHERS HUMAN?!" the creature with the evil eyes bellowed right into her face. Upon hearing the sound of his voice directly, she surmised he was male.

Instead of answering, she threw up and trembled violently, locking eyes again with the hideous monster with her own horror-filled eyes.

"little harlot-" he started again, raising an armored arm as if to slap the life out of the child.

"Halt!" a lesser demon shouted over the crowd, freezing the monster where he stood. "We can use her! She shall draw the Mistress of Chaos to us!"  
>"Don't be a fool Ishtar!" the demon rebuffed grudgingly.<p>

"Alistair, Eris must care considerably for this human, otherwise she wouldn't still be here, is that not so?" Ishtar protested.

Alistair, which Scout surmised to be the leader of this particular garrison, looked down at the human with fiery red eyes, filled with an untold hatred. He dropped Scout and snarled as he watched her shakily bring herself to her knees. He turned swiftly and shoved his way through the crowd.

"Tie her to my horse. We will return her to Samael and use her as bait to draw Eris." He growled, and the next thing she knew, Scout was being bound by her wrist and her waist to a horrifying horse and dragged off by the garrison of demons. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Sabrina's tiny pale face looking down at her, eyes filled with both worry and deep thought. Scout knew that face; a planning face. A clever face. A face that had an idea on what to do next.

"_just go kid," _Scout thought. _"I'll be fine, just go."_ That was the last thing she thought of before she was dragged away by all those demons.

* * *

><p>Sabrina waited until she was certain the demonic horde was far enough away to make her way out of that place. She was alone, however, she seemed to be just fine with that. One thing was certain: she wanted to get Scout back. She wouldn't allow herself to let the only person she knew since her resurrection be destroyed simply because she cared about her. Sabrina would've handled herself if things had gotten too bad.<p>

"_Just go kid. I'll be fine."_

Scout's final thought echoed in Sabrina's mind. She'd heard it clearly. She hadn't meant to hear it however, she was just thinking so loud. She always thought loud, and it made Sabrina wonder why she never said half of the things she thought out loud. Some thought were rather rude, but they had some sound logic behind them.

Those demons would be back, and with that in mind, she decided it was time to pack up and leave. She took scout's army bag and shoved what she knew she needed inside, tossed out what wasn't necessary, and moved on toward the demonic paths that would ultimately lead out of the forest.

She eventually found her way out of the dense forest, all on her own, and came across a dry plain. The grass was dead, the dirt was a dark grey, and by the looks of things, blood had dried up over the grounds. A slaughter had taken place here. The grass crackled and crumbled under her feet as she walked. She scanned her surroundings, looking for any signs of potential danger. As she observed the grounds more closley, she noticed there was what looked like a small river that flowed through the plains just a few meters ahead. An invisible sign told her that the way to temporary safety was to go to the river. Although unsure of what waited for her there, she walked on anyways.

A small, ancient looking dock sat near the river's edge, held in place by slightly large stones and dark grey mud. She carefully treaded onto the dock and looked up at the iron grey sky. There would be rain soon. Maybe not here, but there would be rain. She snapped her head down the east of the river and cocked her head to the side. A large, wooden box was headed in her direction. Without much thought, or care, she climbed inside with the bag as it floated by. It wobbled and rocked, although she didn't fall. However, she did get wet. The water was cold and sent chills up and down her back, making her skin crawl. She had thought this trip down the river to be quite relaxing. She didn't take her mind off of her friend though. She was still planning; determined to do whatever was necessary to get her back. She watched the trees pass her by. She listened to the small rapids below. She smelled the cool, sharp air and listened to the sporadic cry of a Kingfisher somewhere in the woods. She began to wonder where she was. Hancock perhaps? Maybe Branches. She had really no idea. Never mind it, she told herself in her mind, just enjoy the scenery until you reach your destination.

* * *

><p>She'd rode in that box with the river all day, and night came quicker than she had anticipated. The trip down the river wasn't fun anymore. It had turned into something lonesome and somewhat frightening. In the surrounding forests, Sabrina could've sworn she saw eyes flashing at her in the dark. She heard disembodied cries, howls, hoots and shrieks, and she was a little scared. She looked into the water and saw the reflection of the crescent moon. It seemed to be trembling as much as she was. She wished her woven overcoat were more thick. She was colder now that night had come. Sleep seemed impossible, but she was more than tired. She stayed awake as long as she could, hoping to see a sign of sanctuary. Or perhaps, the light of day waiting for her just around the bend.<p>

* * *

><p>How she'd fallen asleep she would never know, but Sabrina was startled awake by her box tumbling and crashing into a large pile of muddy, brown rocks. She hurt her hand in the crash, but paid it no mind. She was more concerned on where she had arrived. She looked around, seeing nothing but mud, rocks, and skeleton trees without leaves or branches. But there was also something else that caught her eye: a pair of sythes impaled into the dry soil just a few feet away from the muddy shore.. they looked ancient, but menacing. Decoratively engraved blades, a few chinks in the blade itself, they looked almost fragile. A long, black scarf hung from one of the hilts. They looked interesting.<p>

She snatched the scarf from the blade and observed it for a while. It was pretty worn out. It was dusty, ripped and tattered at the ends, and smelled musky, like wet newspaper or stale air. It was warm, and in some places, it felt soft.

She looked around, and seeing no one around, decided to take it as her own. If it were just left there with the two sythes, surely it wouldn't be missed. A crow cawed and shrieked at her on a bare branch just above her head, making her jump and sprint off into the light brush just ahead. The whole bird rushed over her head with a frantic cawing; a cry of hideous terror. she had never heard that in a crow's voice before, and never wanted to hear it again. But that crow wasn't the only thing watching her.

* * *

><p>She had to get out of this place. The ground was hot, and the air made Sabrina's eyes sting. The wind was too warm, making breathing a bit of a difficult task. She made good use of the scarf, wrapping it around her eyes and face some. She could almost see through it while she walked. She looked like a little black phantom trekking her way across that barren place.<p>

She walked for a very long time, until she could remove the scarf from her face and the air started to smell more like salt than sulfur. She saw sand a few meters off a ledge she stood on; The Atlantic. She knew this ocean was safe, at least for a little while. She slid down the slick rock and took off her shoes at the bottom. She stepped forth to the sand. It was soft and warm beneath her bare feet, the waves were calm, and the air tasted salty. Her legs were tired, so she scouted the area for a place to stop and rest. About a twelve minute walk down the shore stood a large rock. Nothing would notice her there, her attire was about as dark as the rock itself.

She was exhausted. She'd walked for hours, the sky was just starting to change its colors to the warm orange of the sunset. She wrapped the scarf into a small ball and laid it beneath her head. What could she have to lose from getting a few hours of sleep? Nothing, as far as she was concerned. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

* * *

><p>Tides. Damn tides. Damn water. God dammed water. As she slept, the tide rose while she was out. Sabrina awoke to water splashing on her face and legs. She rose up quickly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, licking the salt from her lips. Now, her rock was almost completely submerged in water. She could feel the cold water splashing against her bare feet. The shore was far away, and swimming back wouldn't be a picnic. But she couldn't just sit there. She realized there was no other choice but to try to swim back. But what if the current swept her off? She would never find Scout if she were swept away by the ocean.<p>

Little Sabrina inched closer to the edge, preparing to make her way into the water. It was a deep and dark blue, and she could make out a good portion of the moon's crescent face on the surface of the water. The waves were mild. The shore was so far away. How could I have been so stupid, she scolded herself over and over. She rolled her eyes into the starry sky and grumbled, preparing once more to dive in; something caught her eye under the water.

A shadow slithered its way around her tall rock, circling it painstakingly. Sabrina blinked and backed away half a pace, the water was completely up to her toes. Bubbles broke the surface as the thing swam around and around, until it finally rose from the water; a scaly, serpentine creature with a huge, spiny head and four huge eyes. The sound of it was like a cat purring, only it was getting louder and louder. It was growling at her. It exposed its teeth. They were long and sharp, some curved and cracked along the ends. Its eyes were reminiscent of a quad of huge fire rubies, glowing brightly in the dark night. It towered above Sabrina, its body shimmering and glistening in the moonlight. However, she was not afraid. In fact, she smiled when the creature locked its hungry gaze with her own. Her face had a smile, but nothing else showed any emotion. Her eyes seemed empty.

Her arm moved slowly. The growling had now become a low grumble, like mild thunder in a storm; a rumbling sound. She picked up the bag and the scarf, wrapping the scarf around her tiny waist and slinging the bag over her shoulder. She didn't break her gaze with the serpent for a second; she didn't even blink.

She was being watched.

* * *

><p>"Hmm…" Death uttered.<p>

"What is it brother?" Fury tossed her long violet hair over her shoulders and joined him on a decaying log, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was seeing.

"She wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance… Why is she still alive?" he replied ominously, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Does- Is that- Does she have your-"  
>"Yes! It's mine!" Death cut her off and scowled. Seemed as though he was still heated over being robbed my a mere child. Fury gave a tight-lipped smile, as if to say 'I told you so," but the glare she was receiving from her eldest brother made it disappear.<br>"That's adorable…" she murmured, almost under her breath, but just so she was sure he could hear her.  
>"Hmph…. Wait, that's strange…"<br>Fury turned her head to the clearing in the trees, directing her attention back to the ocean; back to the creature. Her mouth slowly slid open and she raised a brow, leaning further forward.

"Is that creature _carrying_ her?!"

* * *

><p>Sabrina stared into the monster's eyes. Her inscrutable display of collectiveness was incredible for a child such as herself. The infamous serpent no longer showed her its teeth, nor did it growl. It seemed as though it no longer sought to threaten her at all. Rather, it quietly rumbled and purred in its throat. It seemed to be captivated by the child, for it didn't look away from her soul-piercing icy blue eyes for an instant. Sabrina extended her hand forward, her palm facing the creatures flared nostrils. There was a stillness between the two last felt as though it would last forever, and the two Nephilim nearly held their breath.<p>

Then it happened.

The serpent closed all four of its fiery red eyes and leaned forward, placing it's snout on the child's tiny palm. It was rough and moist, and it felt a bit slimy as well. She paid it no mind. Her other hand reached up to pet it. She didn't stop staring at it. The creature looked as if it had known her since it was born. It nuzzled its snout against her, pushing her back another pace. It lowered it's head, opening its eyes and looking up at her again. She gently climbed up onto the creature's head, bag in hand, and it carried her to the shore.

When the waters became to shallow for the serpent to go any further, it stopped, stretched it's neck out and allowed her to slide off. The water was icy cold, but the creature's breath was warm. The water was up to her chin; she was hardly floating. She pet the creature again, smiling sweetly at it, and it gave her a gently nudge before departing back into the black ocean. As it left, Sabrina smiled to herself at how beautiful she thought it was. She swam onto the shore and quickly climbed into a tree as she had seen Scout do many times. She would stay here for a while, and think.


	4. Of Angels and Demons

_Demons… I really hate demons… No good can come from messin' with demons… End of story…_

* * *

><p>"'Sat all you got?!" Scout cockily sneered insolently through her bloody teeth.<p>

"Quiet! Or I will tear out your tongue!"

"You've said that eleven times already! Haven't done anything yet!"

The demon spun around and delivered a powerful backhand to Scout's left cheek, knocking her back a few paces. She carefully brought a hand forth to touch the red mark on her face. She spat angrily at the demon above her, and rubbed her eye. Her once handsome face was now littered with scar and bruises, making her cheeks and eyes appear almost purple.

Ishtar sneered above her. He then powerfully kicked her in her side, forcing the air from her lungs and making her eyes water. She couldn't take much more of this abuse. It had only been a matter of hours since they'd grabbed her, but she was exasperated. Walking for hours, arguing with the demons, absorbing punches, and trying to make a run for it every chance she got. She was indeed fast, but they were faster.

Alistair asked way too many questions, all ranging from Scout's resurrection, to whether or not she was in fact a female. They got on each other's nerves. Both sides knew it. The human just couldn't wait to be delivered to this Samael guy and get this over with. Then again, that didn't sound too safe either.

She thought about Sabrina, wondered if she was safe. Or if she was even still alive. It scared her thinking about it too much. She ached at the thought of Sabrina dying. She was supposed to be watching her, like Eris had said. She was supposed to be protecting her. Scout was surprised at how quickly that kid had wormed her way into her heart. Scout drew a picture of her in her head. She imagined her smiling; that tight-lipped smile she gave to nothing and no one but Scout. It was a privilege to receive a smile like that one, Scout thought. She always thought she didn't deserve that smile though.

Worry quickly flooded her mind, washing coldly through her. What if Sabrina was really in danger? All on her own, in the middle of the forest. What would she do if more demons found her? How could she protect herself? She walked on alongside Ishtar. What was she thinking? Leaving her like that? She wished she could escape these demons and go back; go back and get to her friend before something horrible happened to her.

Her head snapped up from the ground as Ishtar was seemingly tackled to the ground. Her eyes opened wide when the thing wisped past her. She looked over to the tangle of wrestling creatures and elated; her savior being an angel. Some invisible sign must've led those angels here, but that didn't matter right now. Scout recognized one of those angels and nearly fainted in relief.

It was Olivia.

Some demons fled the ambush, while others were slaughtered. Good riddance, Scout thought. She smiled as her red-head friend approached her and took her fists, running the rusty chains along the sharp edge of her blade. Up close, the weapon seemed a lot more sharper. When at last the shackles fell, Scout rubbed her chafed wrists and spit on them. Daniel had taught her about doing that. After she did so, they started itching.

"What in heaven's name are you doing?" Olivia's sharp voice asked. She was smiling at the human, placing a hand on her hip and shaking her head.

"Well, after you spit on scratches, they heal faster." Scout muttered, grinning a bit as Olivia stepped closer. The angel took Scout's hand in her own and turned them over and over.

"Looks like they itch." She rubbed Scout's fingers smoothly. "But that simply means that it's getting better." She gave a small wink and gently touched Scout's cheek. Her hands were soft and warm, they reminded her a lot of Ororo.

"_Don't think of her now. Don't think of her ever again~" _Scout scolded herself in her head.

She quickly changed the subject to get her mind off her friend. "How did you know I was here?" she asked, peering over her shoulder over to the other angels, seeming to be speaking to one another about what was going on. Scout could feel their eyes on her, and she could swear that they were whispering about her.

"It was anonymous. Uriel received revelation in a sudden vision that she and the Hellguard would be needed here, so she gathered a small garrison consisting of twelve others and myself and we were here in no time." Olivia replied, looking back to her comrades as well. "I'm quite glad we did. I had no idea that you would be here. I honestly thought they would've never gotten you." Olivia punched Scout's sore arm, but it didn't matter. She was so relieved to see her face.

"Well, thanks for that. One more day and I'd be dead in a ditch somewhere…" Scout muttered.

"They would've killed you?"  
>"No. I'da killed myself!" Scout joked. She knew her humor was a pain, but if she didn't laugh, she'd cry.<p>

Olivia opened her mouth to speak again, but was asked away by another angel. Olivia took Scout by her arm and led her over, where a small circle of angels stood.

"You see Uriel? I told you! I told you there was-"  
>"Silence!" Uriel hissed.<p>

Scout read her real fast. She had an uncanny ability to determine one's personality and traits, simply by looking at them. There were key factors to doing so: posture and body language, facial expressions at any given moment, eye contact, eye movement, breath patterns, and so on. Scout learned to do so form an old friend of hers. A psychic. A witch. She determined everything about Scout before she even introduced herself. She didn't even tell that woman her name. she already knew. Uriel is determined, honorable and strong-willed by the looks of her posture and the way she looked at the human. When she looked at her angels, she lifted a bit, seeming to be more comfortable, however no less harsh and strict. She cared about these angels, no doubt. Her eyes were a bit different from the rest of her however. They looked like she'd been drowned, but pulled up at the last minute. Those eyes were unfamiliar to her, she didn't know what to make of them. All she could surmise as of now was that this chick was a stricken battle hero; an equivalent to a perfect leader.

She wore armor similar to Olivia's, but the nooks in her armor along the shoulders were more prominent she had tanned skin, long, silver hair that fell just between her shoulder blades as it looked, golden glowing eyes, and was much taller than Scout.

"Eris is responsible for this child's resurrection, is she not?" she said sternly, looking down at Scout, who was still lost in her thought process for a moment. She blinked several times after the short period of silence that loomed over the group.

"What?" Scout uttered at last. About several other angels started laughing at her.

"Are you aware that Eris-"  
>"OH! Yeahyeahyeah~ I know it was her… Yeah." Scout interrupted, giving herself a mental shake.<p>

Uriel mentioned Olivia over to her and whispered something indistinct into her ear. Scout shifted her weight o her other foot and rolled her ankle around to ease the stiffness. After a few moments of what sounded like subtle arguing between the two, Uriel returned with Olivia in her shadow.

"If what Olivia states is true, then you have done more than an ample job in staying alive. Well done human." She said in monotone. She probably didn't really care how well she was doing. She sounded more concerned with something else about her. Probably the fact that Scout has contact with an entity that not even Heaven could locate and bring to justice. Even so, Scout enjoyed the praise. Uriel gave a small grin and turned back to her angels.

"After all, I am The Phoenix." Scout said cheerfully.

Uriel jerked to a halt and spun around, grabbed her shoulder and faced her with wide eyes.

"What did you just say?" she demanded.

"What? Y-you mean 'The Phoenix'? That's what my brothers called me sometimes. It's my real name. Scout's just a nickname." She paused briefly. "My dad named me Phoenix, after my mom. Her name was Phoenix too. My parents died in a house fire when I was six months old. " she was surprised at Uriel's sudden agitation. "Why?"

Uriel started walking away again. "Nevermind."

Somehow, Scout had managed to poke at a rather sensitive subject. She had a bad habit of doing that. Her need to know always ate its way through her very being at times; when she wanted to know something bad enough, she would go to some crazy extremes.

* * *

><p>The master stared off at nothing in particular, watching the empty crimson skies that blanketed the night at The Black Stone. After a time, she took a deep breath and strode through the door, her guards following at a respectable distance. Alistiar had returned, empty-handed. Just as she thought. He didn't always fail her, but when he did, she knew about it before he could find the words to tell her.<p>

They went down long corridors of stone and granite lit by torches, up spiral staircases of black stone, and down even more corridors with windows that let her observe the demonic activity below. The stone smelled stale, damp.

Twelve levels up, the air became fresh again. The windows evaporated, becoming mere holes in the walls with dramatically decorative engravings.

As they came to a pair of doors with a scene of a hellish battle carved in relief, her guards pulled on the onyx rings, the huge doors opening smoothly, quietly. Beyond was a room of dark, elegant furnishings. It gleamed in the light of the candles, and lanterns set about on every wall. Books lined three walls and an immense fire pit sat in the very center of the room. She stopped for a short time to consult an old Leviathan hide-bound book sitting on a pedestal, then she called for her commander and walked on through a maze of rooms until she reached her desired destination.

Fire popped and crackled as flames wavered in brick hearth, providing the only light in the room. She suddenly stopped midstride, her flesh made gold in the firelight.

"Alistair." she whispered.

Alistair had stopped when his master addressed him. He knew he couldn't sneak up on her. He lowered himself to one knee and knelt, bowing his head and staring at the floor.

"My lord, I failed to bring-"

"I know," She interrupted. Her voice was soft, almost kind. "I knew you wouldn't succeed. I simply wanted to do a little experiment." Abrigor straightened her body and smoothed her bangs, letting the fire atop her head lick and wrap itself around her fingertips. She took a deep breath, letting her anger out with it. Frowning, her painfully alluring glowing green eyes searched u at Alistair.

"As the tales of old foretold; The legends would be proven true…" she said absently.

"Hmm?"

"The Phoenix, Alistair. The Ebon Dragon. The Nine Primordials." She started, eyes fixed in a stare.

Alistair clasped his hands behind his back and stared off with her. "Can you be so sure?" he asked. "The Counsel forbids any mention of those fables as of now, and you're displaying your belief in them?"

She looked up at him with a coy, questioning frown.

"That is why Eris went to the Well, you know. Not to be a fool and assuage her insane appetite for confusion and discord, as all else thinks, but to bring forth the heroes." Her green eyes sparkled. "She has done us a great favor, flushing out a child as powerful and gullible as she, and so distraught. So angry…" A sadistic grin split her charming features. "I could have use for her."

Alistair's brows knitted together in a frown.

"Just because these chains of events may seem as such, does not mean that they are. They could be merely a coincidence."

Abrigor licked her lips and stepped closer to the big demon. "Follow me… There's something I want for you to see…" she said, smiling. When Abrigor smiled, things were going to get interesting. She brought a clawed hand to Alistair's muscled shoulder.

"Do you recall the tales of the Primordial know as Fotis?" she egged on, leading him through the labyrinth of rooms.

"The Champion of Darkness, if memory serves."  
>"Good, my friend. Good."<p>

"What of it?"

"You'll see…" she teased.

Torches set in ordinate gold brackets lit the walls of the room with a flickering light. Alistair knew this room: where his master kept her most prized possessions. Everything ranging from ancient scrolls, to strange talismans, and even more quaint things such as white roses. She had a fondness for them, for their delicate appearance, yet powerful thorns. The moment she first slit her palm open trying to grasp one, she fell in love with them.

The firelight reflected off of the polished pink granite of the huge, vaulted room. The floor was of black onyx, looking as if one was standing on a sheet of glass over a void of black nothingness. Guards watched over her crypt day and night to be sure her beloved possessions were untouched. Failure to do so meant Abrigor was to deliver a slow, intimate, and agonizingly painful death.

The master gracefully sashayed toward a short pillar in the center of the immense room, supporting a solitary silver vase. The silver-enshrouded vase glowed in the firelight. Carved symbols covered its sides, continuing in a ring around the entire object: instruction of an ancient language.

Abrigor ran her delicate fingers over the carved symbols on the vase, muttering an incantation under her breath. As she did so, the doors to the crypt creaked closed on their own. Alistair did not turn, but he was ever alert. She whispered on; one by one, the symbols on the sterling vase began to glow an eerie, black light. The crypt grew colder and colder, something demons were none too fond of.

Her hand slowly reached into the vase, and a look of pain flashed in his master's eyes. For a moment, at least. Her eyebrows wrinkled together and she closed her eyes tight. She made no sound. She pulled her hand from the vase and held it at arm's length for her commander to see. Rather than the smooth, orange skin he was used to, it had turned blacker than pitch. The shadowy substance stirred tirelessly around her wrist, glowing black and red, resembling shards of colored glass manifesting, and dissolving in an instant.

Alistair unclasped his hands behind his back in shock. "Is that-"

"No one is to know if this Alistair. Not Samael. Not Lilith. Not Lucifer." She hissed a breath, straining herself as the shadows attempted to reach further up on her arms. "And I will know if you breathe a word of this to anyone…"

"Of course my lord," Alistair said hurriedly. "The secret is safe with me. I swear…"

The master grinned, turning her attention back to her ghostly hand, turning it this way and that. She was impatient for the next sacrifice. At that time, she could perform the ceremony and fully grasp the power of this incredible force. She smiled to herself for discovering such a remarkable force of darkness. Not even The Counsel could control this power, and she had a firm hold on it. She smiled even more at the thought of what she would do to The Counsel after all was said and done. She thought of what she would do to the Phoenix; what if she claimed her as a weapon of Hell?

"Was it hard for you, Alistair?"  
>"My lord?"<br>"The Phoenix. Was it hard for you? To look, but not to touch?" she teased. "I know you wanted to, Alistair. She is an awfully handsome and attractive girl."

Her smile returned, teasing yet again.

Alistair shifted his weight. "Yes, my lord… She is…"


	5. When Things Couldn't Get Any Worse

Scout combed her fingers through her thick, blonde hair. Her mind drifted in and out of a fog of grief and depression, overwhelming her at times. She often found herself crying, especially when she was all alone. She felt so abandoned; losing her brothers, the only family she ever had, and being brought back to a war-torn world without even the slightest clue as to why she was there. She felt more orphaned and alone now more than she ever had in life.

She could hear them sometimes. She could hear her brothers whisper in her mind, telling her what to do at times. They haunted her. They gave her the feeling like she was so close to finding answers as to why she was here, teasing her at times. Jack often laughed at her for not seeing it; whatever it was. But the whispers that hurt her most of all were the ones from her eldest brother, Ronald. She loved all of her brothers, even Jack, despite his cynical, spiteful, and judgmental attitude. But Ronald was special. He was the only other person besides herself that she could trust, but not with anything. As sad as it was to her now, Ronald died never knowing who Scout really was.

He really knew nothing about her. Nothing important, anyways.

Thinking of him now made her cry even more. She was glad Uriel had let her go for a short walk on her own. The way she looked at the human was like she knew her pain.

And why shouldn't she? Whenever she looked into that child's cinnamon eyes, it almost made her want to cry. Her eyes were sadder than anything she had ever seen. Scout looked like she was giving all her strength to just put on a brave face and distract herself with another problem.

A hand touched Scout's shoulder, and with a start, she realized it was Olivia. Her bright eyes peered over her shoulder at nothing, trying to avert her sad eyes. "Scout, Uriel has sent a few of her best trackers to find her." She paused for a heartbeat. "She is important to you, isn't she?"

Scout, on her knees, wanted more than anything to fall against someone. Olivia knelt beside her.

"Yeah, she was. She was my responsibility. I screwed up pretty bad, this time…"  
>Curiosity etched its way onto Olivia's soft features. "In what ways? If what you said was true, then there was no way you could have possibly fought off all of those demons. You couldn't have protected her. Leaving her behind was the only thing you could think to do. If it were me, I would have done the same thing." A smile spread across Olivia's face. She ran her gloved hand through her thick, long hair. "I'm sorry you feel so guilty, Phoenix. I genuinely am. It wouldn't have been-"<br>"Don't feel sorry for me," Scout stared sadly off across the clearing, a willow swaying slowly in the wind. "That's the last thing I want. I just want answers. I wanna know why I was brought here. Eris put me here for some reason; the least she could do is tell me why…"

Olivia sat cross-legged beside Scout while she talked. The angel thought it strange how she was so hell-bent on saving her familiar. As noble as she sounded, there was no way Scout could do any of this all on her own.

"Phoenix," she started, trying to make her voice sound more secure. "I think you should consider what you're planning here. You're determined to track Eris- a deity whom no one can trace if their lives depended on it- and demanding information. Scout, Eris is unpredictable and dangerous. She's a danger to herself and anyone who becomes involved with her.

"You'll need all the help you can get in this. Obviously, you're of great importance. Eris wouldn't have resurrected you and the other child if you weren't important. She's not that bad…"

Watery eyes looked up at Olivia, really looked up at her. Scout chewed on her lower lip and blinked back tears. "Her name is Sabrina."

"Eris won't let anything happen to Sabrina, I'm sure of it." She put a hand on Scout's knee. "Have faith. Your quest is a noble one, I know that much." She smiled to herself. "Maybe my service can be useful to you."

* * *

><p>"Death, I don't think this is such a great idea."<p>

Death rolled his eyes and harrumphed. His glowing amber eyes scanned the city for any signs of life. "I know what I saw. You were there yourself, you witnessed it." He squinted against the bright light of the sun and quickly faced Fury again. "You remember those eyes. I've seen those eyes before, sister."

Fury slowly leaned against the wall of an old building. She took a deep breath and shook her head. "Brother, you're speaking against the Counsel's will… We know those prophecies are just a fable; written by the hands of mad men. Indeed, she possesses the same eyes to that of an Ebon Sai, but we have no idea for sure."

Probing Death's gaze again, she crossed her arms over her chest and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Death tried to piece together what he saw with what he knew, and even though, doubt wormed its way into his every thought.

* * *

><p>The noise in the pines made Uriel want to investigate. She moved the bough with the tip of her sword, making the creature inside jump. It stared at Uriel's sword, eyes wide. It couldn't move.<p>

A girl stuck her head in. Her hair fell in waves around her face. It looked almost white. "Whoa, what are you?"

Pantera heard a whine, and realized it was coming from her own throat. Still, she could not move. A woman pushed her head in beside the other girl's. She was darker in skin than the younger one. She pulled the white haired girl back behind her. "Put the sword away, My Lord." She scolded. "You're frightening her."

Pantera pulled her dark pack closer to her hip. She wanted to run but her legs didn't work. Perhaps if she made them go away...

Her lips pulled into a snarl and she flattened her ears against her head, giving a rumbling growl to warn them. Most of the time, angels would leave her alone if she did that. And they did. But the white haired girl came in again.

"Scout, no! That's a Shifter! She'll tear you apart!" The dark skinned woman warned. Pantera saw her armored glove grab the girl's shoulder. "Plus, they're poisonous! one bite, and you'll be dead in a heartbeat. Nothing in Creation can cure a Shifter's bite."

The white haired girl pushed in anyway and sat back on her heels. She said something to her, but Pantera couldn't understand her. Pantera's eyes looked up at the girl's face; at her pretty hair, red eyes, and nice smile. She still wanted to run.

"Why is she looking at me like that?" Scout asked, looking over her shoulder at Olivia.

"She can't understand you Scout." Uriel said, sounding like Scout asked if trees grew in the forest. "She's a Shifter. They have a language all their own."

"Well, do you know how t'speak it?"

"I do." Olivia interrupted. "But why do you-"

"Uriel, where are Shifters from?" Scout asked.

Uriel pinched her lips together and wrinkled her brows, thinking on it. "I know they're native to the Forge Lands and some parts of Lostlight-"

"So why is there one here? On Earth?" Scout could see in the two angels eyes they were getting what the human was getting to. "This thing's here for a reason, and I wanna know why. I wanna know what she is too."

"Well, we told you Scout." Olivia lowered herself and sat on her heels beside her. "She's a Shifter. An animal. They're awfully cute, and can be very docile, however, in the wild they are fiercely territorial and protective of their pups. They change shape from one animal to another, and some angels keep them as companions-"

Scout's head snapped over to face the angel. "Wait, you mean to tell me that angels keep these things as pets?" She gave the two a questioning, if not disapproving frown.

It was real strange to her. That Shifter child in there looked human enough, aside from the feline-like ears atop her head. She looked a lot like a Thundercat. Scout gave an inward laugh at that thought.

"You angels are real weirdoes..." Scout muttered. "Anyway, you think one of you can translate?"

At last her legs started working, but only a little: they scooted her further into the tree. Another growl escaped her throat, along with a shaky whine. She tore her eyes away from the white haired girl to the dark skinned angel when she came closer.

_"I'm not going to hurt you,"_ the woman said. Her voice sounded nice, but Josephone said the same thing, sometimes, before she slaps her.

The woman reached out to touch Pantera's knee, which was covered in whelps and scabs and burns. She jumped when Pantera snapped at her, nearly biting her fingertips. Pantera then pulled back.

_"Please,"_ she said, angry eyes filling with tears. _"Just leave me alone."_

"What'd she say?" The white haired girl asked.

The woman turned and shushed her. She turned back, her golden eyes blinked slowly. Pantera's eyes focused on hers.

_"I won't hurt you."_ she said in a nice voice.

Pantera knew that when someone says things with a nice voice, they were probably lying. Still, her voice was nice.

_"Please, just go away! Be descent and leave me!"_ Pantera whined.

Olivia looked down at the thick shaft of iron around the Shifter's neck, embezzled with glowing green marble in shapes and symbols. Olivia's eyes hardened. This child was under the thumb of a demon somewhere. Those collars were set with a demonic enchantment, meant to inflict pain on those who wear it. It bonds the slave to the master until it is painfully removed. This child was no one's pet, but in fact their slave.

_"Are you hurt?"_ she asked, pointing to her bruised legs.

Pantera nodded and twisted her legs around to her, glowering up at dark skinned woman.

_"I promise child, I will not hurt you."_ She said woodenly, smiling her best for her.

Pantera wished she wouldn't smile. When people of her level of authority or higher smiled, it usually meant there was going to be trouble. The white haired girl stuck her head in further. "Tell her my name's Phoenix, but she can call me Scout. And ask what her name is."

Olivia translated, and Pantera gave Scout an iron glare. "_Pantera."_

"Pantera? Whoa, like, that's one of my favorite bands!" Scout said, seating in a cross-legged position beside Olivia.

_"Band?"_ Pantera asked, cocking her head to one side and growling much less.

"Yeah, where I'm from, there used to be this musical group; a band, and they called the group 'Pantera.' They played pretty well, too."

Pantera liked the sound of that. She remembered when her momma would sing to her when she was just a tiefling.

"Well, it's a real pretty name, but I gotta tell ya', you've got the ugliest hair I ever seen." Scout said.

"Scout!" Olivia squawked. "How could you say such a thing!"

"Well, it's true! Ask her who cut her hair all stupid like that; some ugly, mean, old witch?"

Pantera giggled when Olivia translated. It was funny to think of her master as an ugly old witch. "_My master did. She likes making me ugly."_ she said sadly, shrugging.

Scout smiled her special crooked grin. "Well Pantera, I got a little dagger from a buddy of mine here-" she took the knife from the belt loops of her pants and showed it to her, letting her know she wouldn't hurt her with it. "I'm no hairstylist, but the least I could cut it straight." Scout shrugged. " But if you leave it looking like that, you might scare the Four Horsemen away."

Pantera giggled again. "_Yes, please. I would like my hair straight.."_

"Alright, come on out here and sit on my lap, and we'll fix it right up."

Pantera got up and walked around the angel, watching her hands and keeping as far away as she could. Scout picked her up with a strong hand on each side of her waist and set her on her lap. She pulled some strands of hair out. "Let's get this mess fixed up." Scout said, seeming to be speaking to herself.

Pantera kept her eyes on the two armed angels, fearing the worst out of them. Scout looked over too. She pointed with the dagger.

"These are my friends, Olivia and Uriel." she said, pointing to them as she named them. She leaned over and spoke loud enough for the angels to hear them. "They're real ugly, aren't they?"

Olivia reluctantly translated, making Pantera laugh.

"Phoenix, where did you learn to talk to children?" Uriel asked scornfully as she placed a fist on her hip.

Scout smiled. "Learned from my brother."

Pantera giggled at her; she couldn't help it. "_I do not think she is ugly. She is awfully pretty."_ That was the truth, but the fact the two women were angels scared Pantera something awful.

_"Well, thank you Pantera. You're very pretty too."_ Olivia said, smiling.

Pantera wasn't ever told that she was pretty, only Zephyr had said so once, before she ran away. She looked up at Scout's face. Scout smiled.

"Pantera, you aren't from around here are you?" Scout asked, little pieces of Pantera's deep umber red hair falling in her lap.

_"No. I came here with Master Josephone when she said Samael was freed."_

_"Shif- Pantera, where is the rest of your pack?"_ Olivia asked.

Pantera answered honestly, not knowing anything else to say. "_They're dead."_

Scout's hands stopped working, then started again. Olivia gave Uriel a look like she was upset, but Pantera didn't know if it were really angry or not. Olivia reached over and gently squeezed Pantera's arm. "I'm so sorry little one."

Pantera didn't feel too sad. It was a long time ago. Scout snipped at her hair. Pantera smiled to herself at how mad Josephone would be if she knew her hair was straight. Uriel gave her a light=hearted smile when she looked up at her once. Pantera watched Uriel and Olivia talking about things she couldn't understand, than to Scout. She looked a lot different from the rest of them. Pantera thought she was prettier than Uriel or Olivia.

_"Where is her wings?"_ Pantera asked, making Olivia laugh a bit.

_"She isn't an angel. She's a human. They have no wings."_ Olivia smiled wider and shook her head.

Scout shook her head too after Olivia translated. "Nope. Just a human. Nothin' to special."

Her face got a little sad then. She looked like she was sad she was a human. Pantera only thought she was an angel because of her hair. Scout turned and wiped the blade of the dagger in the grass, then handed it to the Shifter. "Have a look. It's no mirror, but it's the best I've got. Tell me what'cha think."

Pantera held it up, trying to see her reflection in the thin dagger. It was the smallest excuse for a mirror she had ever seen, and it took a minute to get it in the right place so she could see herself. When at last she did, her eyes went wide, and she got tears.

She threw her arms around Scout.

_"Oh, thank you Phoenix! Thank you! It's the prettiest my hair has ever been!"_

Scout gave her a hug back that felt as good as any Zephyr had ever given her. One of her strong, warm hands rubbed her back. Pantera's leather attire creaked with the effort. It was such a great hug, and she wished it would never end.

But it did. Scout was never going to find Sabrina at this pace, so she convinced Uriel and Olivia to let her go on and attempt to search on her own. Olivia had protested until her dark cheeks burned red with ire, but Scout could not be swayed. Uriel was understanding, if not rather agreeable about getting the young human out of her hair. She was gracious enough to send one of her trackers along with her to ensure she would find her companion.

That help was Ezekiel.

At first, Scout had a hard time telling if he were really an angel. Unlike any other angel she had encountered, he possessed stark amethyst eyes that looked almost like gemstones in his eye sockets. His wings were also a lot fluffier, rather than looking like simple tendrils imitating feathers as the other angels had. His actually looked like an angel's wings. Like Olivia's. Soft brown hair fell in wisps around his head, falling an inch shy of his broad shoulders. His face was clean shaven, and held surprisingly youthful features. Like the soft face of a normal young man. He looked like any human being's idea of an angel. He wore little armor, carried small knives and maces in his belt along with what looked like a few talismans and scrolls. Why would a Hellguard angel need any of those little things, she thought. But that wasn't what really bugged her about him.

He looked just like her brother, Ronald.

When Scout first saw Ezekiel she thought he must be the most nonchalance man in all the world. His young face looked to her as if it had never once smiled. That first few hours after first meeting him, she thought of hurling herself off of a cliff instead of sharing the search for Sabrina with so solemn a man. He might not even care if she found her friend or not.

However, Scout came to realize that Ezekiel was a hard-working, ambitious man who looked out on life with a great sense of humor. That first day she ad been with him, she had only later learned that he had only been putting on his most sober face so that Uriel would not think him a slacker unworthy of such a task. In a short time, Scout knew Ezekiel to be a kind of man she could depend on.

A pretty good friend.

* * *

><p>Scout was sitting on a rock by a small creek, talking to Ezekiel about what had happened since her resurrection and with a sudden jolt of energy, a thunderous sound from nowhere, the air was completely knocked from Scout's lungs. The pain in her chest sent her to her knees, screaming in agony. She clutched her flesh between her breasts and felt a cool, hard lump where there wasn't one before. She looked down and saw that, whatever it was, it glowed brighter every second. She wanted so badly to die. To end the pain. Her insides felt like they were burning. For some reason, her anger stirred with the pain; a spiral storm within her. She attempted to control the pain. She could hear the muffled cries of her angelic companion. He was calling her name. She couldn't reply though. It hurt so much, she blacked out. The last thought in her mind was the stone in her chest. The flesh around it cracked and burned and bled.<p>

Where the hell did it even come from? Oh well, looked like there would be a change of plans.


	6. The Ebon Sai

His eyes fell on the child as she strode confidently toward them. Despair was the first to react; the closer the child came, the more frantic the phantom steed became. It went as far as knocking Death clean from the saddle and running in the opposite direction, phasing into the earth as he ran. The other three horses weren't too far behind him. Death collected himself after the sudden launch and rubbed gravel from his pant legs as he stood up. He spun around to face the child again, his breath catching itself in his throat. Her hair full, lush, and long, collected in wisps and ringlets, complimenting the contours of her face. She was very small and thin. She wore a black long-sleeved shirt, black tights falling just above her knees, and slightly worn black flats. Her attire was elegant in its simplicity.

Death and his brethren stood a good six feet away from her, and he was determined to keep the distance. She stood straight and still, arms at her side. Her eyes shimmered and glowed an eerie icy blue, and they came unafraid to his; to any of the Four for that matter. She held him with that gaze. Held him like a grip of the strongest iron would, searching his eyes as if searching his soul. He felt the cold magic behind those eyes and tried his hardest to look away.

The intensity of her gaze slowly relaxed, loosening its grip on the eldest Horseman. In her eyes Death saw something that intrigued him more than anything: Intelligence. Arrogance. Wisdom. Power. He saw it all flaring there, and through it all, he felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity.

A warning flashed in his mind, reminding him why he was here and what had just happened.

"I remember you," He started, keeping his voice low. "You're the one that stole my cowl, aren't you?"

She was silent. Her paper white face showed no emotion. Neither did her eyes. But she raised one over her perfectly arched brows and frowned at him. When she next moved, she unwrapped the cowl from her slender waist and held it at an arm's length. Grudgingly, Death walked over to snatch it from her, only to have her drop it to the concrete at the last second. Grumbling, he bent over and snatched it up, looking at her again to see her smiling smugly. That rotten little brat, he thought, scowling at the child.

Suddenly, as if his mind had caught up with him, he spun on his heels and gawked openly at the child. Those eyes. A flawlessly arched brow raised on the child's face, her grey lips curved into a smug grin. The way she looked at him was as if she was asking, _now you realize who you're dealing with._ With a start, he looked back to the other three Horsemen. War was surprisingly dumbfounded, Fury cupped a clawed hand over her mouth. Her vacant white eyes were wide with shock. Even Strife faltered at the realization.

The early dawn was just starting to reveal wisps of pink and purple clouds above the brightening horizon, leaving only the few brightest stars to shimmer in the western sky. With the first light came a gentle breeze, unusually cool. The chill made the Four Horsemen weary. The way the child's eyes hardened made Death shiver inwardly. There was no sign of anything about her that should frighten the Nephilim as she did, but they could feel her power. Despite the fact they tried so hard to denounce their anxieties, they knew for a fact that this was her. The Wind of Death; Death's Song on two legs.

The Ebon Sai.

Fury fell to a knee, bowing her head. She was the first. The other Horsemen reluctantly followed in their sister's wake. During his service to the Nephilim alone, he had heard tales of the Nine Primordials and their power over all of existence, but when they pledged their allegiance to the Charred Counsel, they demanded that they denounce those stories, for they were merely a fable. There was to be none above the Creator. In so doing, nearly all of Creation has ridden the tales off as a ridiculous myth. However, there was much skepticism, seeing as how The Primordials were mentioned in many prophecies. The Counsel, too, denounced them, and ordered all else to do so too.

And here Death now kneeled, before the fabled Ebon Sai; a human child with power beyond anything the Counsel itself could ever conceive of. He felt no desire to question the child. Her silence and iron glare was enough to say she was already in her Silence, and there would be no words from her until she encountered her Master.

He turned his gaze from the gravel back to the child, and with a start, realized she was much closer than before. She was so small, where Death kneeled, she barley met his eyes. She looked into his eyes from beneath her raptor's brow and blinked slowly up at him. At this, the other Horsemen were afraid she would touch him with her power, and their fear grew even more so when she reached out to touch his face.

The other three Horsemen held their collective breath.

The child's eyes looked to have caught fire. The magic stirred all around in them, the chill of it vertibrating around her. Death couldn't tear his gaze away from her eyes. He was trapped. However, in that touch, as soft as it was, was a request. She didn't breathe a word, but he heard the voice of the Wind of Death clear as day in his mind.

"That's not possible," he drawled lowly. "those worlds have been dead for countless millennia. To venture there would be a waste of time."

Her grey lips curved into a coy, questioning frown.

"The Counsel themselves declared the worlds dead, we had no need to go and see it for ourselves." Death uttered, just as she tightened her grip on his smooth jaw.

Her eyes hardened tremendously. From the corner of his eyes, War saw Death swallow bitterly. His face turned grim.

"If I take you, you will see for yourself that it is futile, and an absolute waste of my-" he stopped immediately as she cocked her head to one side, the question in her frown vanishing and replaced by a tooth-grinding scowl. He took a deep breath and shook his head, never looking away from her eyes. He faltered slightly as a look of pain flashed across his features. Blood trickled from the corner of his left eye.

"I see. If that is your will, chil-" he stopped and clutched his throat for a moment. "-Ebon Sai…"

Silently, she released him from her gaze, leaving him to gasp for breath. With an iron glare, she turned her nose up and turned to fury. She waggled an arm at her, mentioning for the Nephilim's hand. Hesitantly, Fury put forth her right hand. Without looking away from her vacant white eyes, the child reached into the pocket of her sweater and placed something soft in her hand.

"_Go there. The angels have the other human. Find her, and bring her to me."_ The magic told her.

Once released, Fury was quick to find something else to focus her eyes on. The soft things in her hand. White, fluffy angel feathers. Fury wanted to question the strange request, but the iron glare those eyes solicited made her shrink away from doing so. She knew now that Death wouldn't be making the journey with them to the White City for whatever reason they had to go. Nevertheless, the Counsel had ordered they find that human, and put her to death. But the Ebon Sai wanted the human alive.

But the Ebon Sai wasn't supposed to exist… was she?

* * *

><p>"Do you even know where we are?" Kolo grumbled, knuckling his rugged chin.<p>

Ergo started. She hadn't heard her brother come up from behind her. She should have, he was so huge and hard to miss. Even so, she was so focused on reading her map. She frowned at and pointed to the dark trail ahead.

"If I'm not mistaken, there should be a small stream ahead-" a quarry of boulders stood in her vision. "-move those boulders out of the way. It'll make passing through easier for us."

Kolo muscled his way past his older sister, clamping his massive hands onto the lower edge of the rock.

Pushing her long, sea-blue hair over her scaly shoulder, Ergo knelt down to her crouching sister. She whimpered and quivered through her shielded eyes. Despite being blinded for her own good, Phobia was still scared senseless. How scared, Ergo wouldn't ever be able to tell. It was too dark to really see her face.

Ergo took her hand in both of her own. "Can you sense any of them? Are we getting any closer?"

Ergo grimaced when she flinched at her touch, but she clutched Phobia's hand as if her hands were the only think keeping her from falling into death's grasp.

"Securii. I can feel her. She is close, just beyond this upcoming stream and in a tunnel, I think."

Phobia turned her head, despite being blinded. The cloth wrap surrounding her shaved head shielded her eyes. She instead saw with the magic. Kolo returned to her side and offered Ergo a hand up, pulling Phobia with her.

Kolo rubbed his dark brown hair back. His brow furrowed in frustration. He had summoned his Nephilim after seeing the signal from his hiding place in The Forge Lands; the colorful pillar of light and fire that screamed its way through the universe. That was the sign he was told to wait for. Since he had been informed of the Nephilim's purge from Creation, he and his other Exalted siblings had been ordered to hide away until a time came when the Nine would be reborn anew. He had seen the light, and the fit of shocked hysteria the Makers were in, and immediately departed to find his siblings.

He had been searching for them ever since.

Kolo was relieved to see that Phobia was unphased by using her magic to track their siblings, and relieved, too, that she was still in her near constant state of stupor. They didn't need her screams and cries of terror at the moment; there was work to be done.

* * *

><p>"How much blood has she lost?"<p>

"Too much, I fear." Another man's deep voice said as they both rushed alongside her.

As Scout tried to focus herself on staying conscious, the breathless voices sounded like they were coming from very far away. She wasn't sure who they were, only that she knew them. That didn't matter now, though. She knew though, that one of them was named Azreal.

The burning pain in her chest and her need for air had her at the edge of panic. It was all she could do to try and stay awake and take another crucial breath.

Even still, she had a bigger worry.

She struggled to put voice to her burning concern, but she couldn't speak the words, couldn't get anything out other than a ragged moan. She clutched the arm of a woman beside her, desperate to get them to stop. She misunderstood and instead urged the men carrying her to hurry, even though they seemed to be moving as fast as they could. They panted with the effort of bearing her over the stone bridges and into the heart of the City. They tried to be as gentle as possible but they never dared to slow.

Scout observed the storm of activity swirling around her with an odd sense of reunion. She looked at the faces around her with water-filled eyes, and felt that there was something about this place that made her feel as though she had been there before. She remembered a friend telling her once that if you ever felt that way, even in your time of dying, you were at home.

As the angels moved deeper into the city under a wide, yawning chasm of pink and white marble, Scout saw above the glistening ramparts a leaden sky that threatened to unleash torrents of rain. Rain in the White City? Sounded too good to be true.

With a start, she realized Uriel was carrying her legs along with a few other angels, one in particular looked more like an angel pretty boy than most of the others. Uriel shouted orders, Scout hardly noticed the ashen faces watching her being carried past as she stiffened herself against the dizzying pain of the rough journey. It felt like those angels were trying to tear her apart.

The whole mob around her funneled through a narrow doorway and into darkness.

* * *

><p>Dawn struggled interminably at bringing light to the new day. Death knew that the sun was up, it had been for a few hours, the world still hung in a half-light between night and day. A ghost of a morning. The rain helped to cool the heat of Death's frustrations.<p>

First off, he was wrong about this world being dead and barren of any life. Well, technically, the Counsel was wrong, but he was still naively convinced that it was dead. Secondly, as soon as he and the Ebon Sai were deep enough into this forest, they were attacked by a pack of dragons. The dragons were unlike anything Death had ever seen; they were like creatures made from shadows. He was unable to attack a single one, and once the monsters dispersed, he realized that he had lost the child! Whether she had been taken, or simply ran away, he didn't know.

He knew those dragons were loose somewhere, and he watched every movement as a potential threat. He knew that, sooner or later, they would come at him again. The uncertainty of when ate at his concentration. Worry over what he had seen so far: the Ebon Sai approach him and touch him with her power, gnawed at his spirit.

All of this nonsense angered the eldest Horseman. Countless truths were proven a lie in a sheer instant. He felt like a fool for believing the Counsel's protests at the exsistance of any other higher power than that of the Creator Himself, or The Charred Cousel. Now, he was alone, searching for a child he couldn't care less about, on a world unfammiliar to him. Against his mature or not, he would have to get answers from this child about where her power derived from, perhaps even, her true identity.

He was so deep in thought, he hadn't noticed realized that he'd been searching for over twelve hours. The forest was drinking the heavy rain. Trees loomed in the dark, hudled together in the mist; the moss on their trunks was vibrant and lush. It stood out on the bark of the trees, and in large, round bumps on the ground, soft and spongy.

Flowers bloomed, only in hues of pale blue and violet, never growing to densley in the brush. To his astonishment, the closed buds of the flowers semed to open on their own, coming to life as he passed them by. He recognized some of the flowers: pale blue roses, lavender, lilac, chrysanthimum, and bright blue delphinium plants. The lichen omn the rocks shone rust in the damp. In some places, water ran down the hill into a temporary creek.

The smells of this gloomy world's floura filled Death's nostrils in the stillness. He realized that the area was changing somehow. It looked the same, as it had for hours, yet it was different. Rain floated down in graceful, quiet reverence for the forest. The entire place felt somehow sacred. He wanted to say something to himself, simply for sake of saying something, but it seemed as if talking would be a sacralige. With a start, he suddenly felt Dust's talons tighten on his shoulder. The crow was so quiet, Death forgot he was even why the Ebon Sai did not request any of the other Horsemen to take her here; their unfitting presence would be a violation.

He soon came to a temple that so blended with it's surroundings, it was almost invisible next to the forest. Its fine, dark tiled pillars wisped up into the misty air. The walls were ancient, although elegant, matching the color of the surrounding trees, with nothing but the ground it sat upon disturbed. The temple seemed to be growing from the forest floor, with trees towering around it protectiv;ey. A few stones made an entryway into a dome shaped frame, a doorway, Death surmised, leading into the place. In front of the stones, a weeping willow bowed and nodded when water from the trees slipped onto it. The mist turned its distinctive pale green bright in the wetness. A path slipped through its midst. Looking at it, Death felt an unimaginable sense of peace wash over him. That, however, wasn't important right now. He had to find the Ebon Sai. He had a few questions for her.


	7. When in Heaven

_"When in Heaven, do as the Heaveners do"_

_-Phoenix Anne_

* * *

><p>Azreal rolled his eyes and harrumphed. "Eris is a dangerous woman; an enigma whom none in the White City could begin to understand or trust. Her lies and visions, although some were proven true, drove some of our best scribes mad. She is mad; beyond that even!" He shook his head as he paced back and forth through the healer's loft in the Argent Spire. He must've not liked talking about Eris. His grim expression lightened the slightest bit. "However, she was exceedingly clever and obedient, only to tasks that appealed to her ends. Actually, she seldom followed any orders. She spent most of her time here, in the Prophecy vaults."<p>

Uriel tapped her fingernails against the desk on the far side of the room. Chewing on her lower lip, she thought about the fact that Eris had managed to enter the Well of Souls, despite being forbidden from that part of the universe by Azreal's magic. She shot the Angel of Death a questioning squint. "What did she read about? Prophecies?"

"Yes. From what I understand, her broken mind was the only mind capable of handling all of the riddles and sheer madness those scrolls had to offer. She often deciphered many of the prophecies already come to pass." He said.

Running a hand through her thick hair, Uriel cursed to herself, standing from the desk and taking a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"Azreal, when I first found the human, she said she was The Phoenix; that Phoenix was her name."

Thinking about the pain of loss that poor child endured made Uriel sick enough, but adding the fact that she addressed herself as one of the fabled Primordials made matters worse. She was relieved in having saved her life, but the haunting look in her eyes as she lay in agonizing pain, looked like she preferred death. However, when she spoke Sabrina's name, her eyes would change, but only a little.

Azreal drew the curtain across a small window in the loft. His features never faltered, not even for an instant. In fact, he looked more relieved than shock. He strode past her, and unable to help himself, smoothed back Phoenix's white hair before leaving her to rest.

"Has she come awake since the healer last saw her?" he asked at last.

Pantera, having been curled up in a ball against Phoenix's back, came awake, her ears perking up. Phoenix slept on, her bare chest wrapped completely in bandages. Sounds only Pantera could hear made her jump up and stretch, crawling across the room and sliding into Uriel's lap. Uriel rubbed Pantera's head for a moment.

"She came awake several times before you got here, but she's sleeping soundly now." She gave Azreal a sad look. Pantera purred against her palm.

"Did she have anything to say when she woke?" he asked.

She frowned up at the old man. "She was scared." She glanced over at the human, sleeping with her head in her arms. "She was calling out. Someone named Ronald…"

Sadness and concern etched into Azreal's face as he gazed off at a bookshelf, not looking at any book in particular. He sighed lowly and watched Scout sleep. She mumbled and stirred slightly, and as she progressed to more aggressive tremors, Uriel moved Pantera from her lap and went to her and rubbed her arms and shoulders. "She remembers everything…" she said sadly. "It has taken its toll on her. She is fortunate that she has only sporadic nightmares, instead of night terrors." Uriel smoothed Phoenix's hair back and rubbed her shoulder with the other hand.

Azreal's face darkened with grief. Pantera tugged on his sleeve.

"_Is Phoenix going to die?" _she asked earnestly. _"Please say no. I don't want Phoenix to die…"_

Despite the gnawing uneasiness that settled over him, the Angel of Death forced a smile and put a big hand on her head. _"I know. Neither do I. She will live, I can guarantee you that." _ He picked the Shifter child up and placed her back over beside Phoenix's back. _"Watch over her, little one."_ He kindly ordered.

With a satisfied purr, Pantera slipped herself into Phoenix's arms, having the human curl all around her and place an arm around her. She licked Phoenix's chin. She was careful of not hurting Phoenix's chest, and nestled her head in the crook of her one arm.

Uriel pulled a chair over beside Phoenix. Pantera watched her. She sat over her rubbing Phoenix's head. She said some things that Pantera couldn't understand, and pretending to sleep, she watched as tears wet Uriel's eyelids. It made Pantera sad to see Uriel so upset, she wished she knew why she looked so sad whenever she looked at Phoenix, but she could never think of a good reason. She still didn't want to see her so sad; or Olivia, or Azreal, and especially Phoenix. She loved them all something fierce.

The choking anguish stung the angel's eyes. Uriel felt tears coursing down her cheeks. She was near dying with grief over her failure to protect Phoenix; one of the Creator's favorites; a human being. Unable to help herself, she pressed a kiss to her smooth brow and rubbed her soft cheek.

"I am so sorry, Phoenix." She whispered in forlorn anguish.

Uriel sat beside Phoenix and smoothed her hair back behind her ears. She looked down on Phoenix with curious eyes.

Phoenix lay on her side, taking slow breaths. Her knees tried to tuck into her chest, but with Pantera in the way, she only wrapped all around her. She made tiny murmurs and sounds in her sleep.

With a start, Uriel realized what it was about Phoenix that made her feel so familiar to her. She looked just like Michael. Not the same impossible perfection, like some perfect statue- but more feminine and rough; more human.

She looked a bit like War too. She possessed the same malice and intensity with her iron stare as he did, but that must've been a mere coincidence.

No, she looked more like Michael than any living creature she had ever seen; the looks of his hair, nose, and mouth. Of course, Michael's hair was much straighter, while Phoenix's was waved and courser. Phoenix's eyes were a rich cinnamon, rather than Michael's piercing azure blue, yet they still possessed the same piercing intensity. The same kind of warrior's gaze that seemed as if it could cut through steel.

Although Uriel knew it impossible, she thought Phoenix must have some sort of connection to Michael. But he had been missing for countless centuries. It must be, she decided, a mere coincidence. Even still, Scout was a beautiful young girl.

* * *

><p>Phoenix felt a hand on her shoulder as she opened her eyes. In the golden shaft of sunlight coming through the window, she could see she was lying on her back on an elegant table, and Olivia and Uriel sat in chairs, pulled up closer to the table she laid on. Pantera was curled up into a ball on Uriel's lap, purring contently.<p>

"Where am I?" she asked sleepily.

"The White City, dear."Uriel's voice declared. "You are lucky to be alive."

Olivia put a hand on Phoenix's chest. "Lie still; we will bring you a change of clothes. Your others were all bloody and burned. "

Phoenix realized, for the first time, that Olivia was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her lush, red hair fell freely down her shoulders and around her face. Phoenix wanted to reach out and touch it, but she didn't want to creep her out any. Plus, it was great to feel her hand on her own shoulder, to know that she was there and she wasn't alone.

"How do you feel?" her voice was so soft and gentle. Phoenix couldn't understand how a Hellguard Soldier like her could have such a gentle voice.

"Dizzy... and hungry... I'm friggin' hungry." Phoenix confessed, smiling a bit out of the corner of her mouth. She stirred to stretch and realized that her naked body was covered with a thin sheet.

Perverts.

"Scout? Do you remember what happened?" She asked. She placed another hand on Phoenix's cheek, cradling her face. She wasn't wearing her armor-backed gloves. Her skin felt amazingly cool.

"I'm not too sure. I remember one minute, everything was all cool, then the next minute, I was on the ground screamin', bleedin', and and burnin'." she shrugged, studying the glows and curves of Olivia's face.

"Scout," Olivia started, blinking her bright yellow eyes down on her. Phoenix was hexed by the sheer ageless almond shape, brilliance of their golden color, all hooded by heavy black lashes. "Something's happened Scout. Something very big and you may have a big part to play here. we just need to keep you here for a while. Until we can test you."

Phoenix could feel herself slipping back into the grip of sleep, but she wanted so badly to know what the _**HELL**_ she was thinking if she was going to keep her here! Completely throwing the regards of how beautiful Olivia was, Phoenix's rage heated to a boil in a matter of seconds. Keep her?! Here?! Test her?!

But she was already asleep. In her mind, she kicked, screamed, cursed and fought; she grabbed Olivia by the nape of her neck and shook her around, screaming why she had to stay and be tested, of all things. But since she was in fact limp and unconscious, that was all in her mind. She could hardly believe that. She had to stay in Heaven, the last place she ever thought she would end up.

* * *

><p>The White City was really something.<p>

Phoenix had never seen so many buildings laid out in such an orderly array. Near the edge of the city, the buildings were smaller, but toward the core they seemed to grow, both in size and in grandeur. The far away sounds of tens of thousands of people drifted all the way to her, carried by the light wind.

Despite being here on sheer chance, she found herself hexed by the brilliance of this place. She imagined one could walk around there for months and still not see everything.

Olivia led her through the White City, through gold and ivory arched gateways, over stunning brick-paved bridges, and through crowded and narrow streets. It reminded her of her former home in New York. Her eyes swept the top of a wall ahead. This building seemed to be dominating the city, rising up, seeming to be stretching its stone arms further into the sky. Its imposing, crenellated walls bathed in the golden light of the sun.

"The Argent Spire." Olivia said.

"Big-ass angel haven?" Phoenix said without looking at her.

Olivia let out a small laugh and lifted her chin a little. She raised an umber eyebrow and reguarded her quietly. "Um, Phoenix- I mean, Scout, since this is my home realm, you may have to show a little bit of… restraint."

Phoenix blew a small raspberry and waved her off with a dismissive laugh. "C'mon! It's me! I've got plenty of-of restraint."

Olivia scowled at her for a moment, soon dismissing the comment While leading her towards the Spire's entrance.

Inside the marble hall with long gold and blue banners, a younger angel waited. She looked to become nervous at the sight of Olivia and Phoenix, and when her gaze settled on the human in particular, she positively melted. That angel looked very young, younger than Phoenix.

"Greetings, Olivia. Uriel sent me. She said she had some work for you and to meet her at the Argent Spire later today." She said in a tiny voice, fussing with her wavy white hair and smoothing her pale pink and white robes.

There was something different about this angel, Phoenix thought. She was small; very small. Her wings looked tucked to her back wrapped with red banner and embellished with symbols that she didn't understand, although they looked vaguely familiar to her. Rather than the gold or white eyes that she'd seen many angels possess, this young angel had somber, champagne pink eyes. She was, by far, the most _adorable_ angel Scout had ever seen.

"Thank you. No need to tell her I received her message; she'll know when I arrive." Olivia replied, speaking in a way that sounded almost like she didn't know who this angel even was. Like how strangers often spoke to one another. As she and Olivia departed off through the building and out the other end into the streets, Phoenix wondered about it.

"Hey, what was with those red bands?"

"Hmm?" Olivia ran an armor-backed glove over the stone railings of a bridge as she walked on. "What red bands?"  
>"The bands that one angel was wearing. The girl with the pink eyes."<p>

"Oh, those red bands! Well, I'm not so sure why they wear them, but all Invisibles do." She replied, looking at Phoenix as if she were asking why trees grew in the forest.

"What's an invisible?" Phoenix asked, trying not to break into a run to keep up with the steadfast angel.

"Well, an Invisible is just an angel incapable of using their wings. Without them, they are weakened, and some are ill. However, they are very rare. If memory serves, there are only a handful of Invisibles in the White City. She's one of them." She shrugged. "I don't really know a whole lot about Invisibles, but I do know that there are so few of them, they are almost insignificant to the rest of our kingdom. A lot of them aren't really of any importance. Just scribes, and at best, messengers between here and Lostlight."

"I'm guessing that's another angel haven?" Scout scoffed absently, getting a small chuckle from her companion.

"Yes, Phoenix, you could say that."

Sitting on the steps of the Argent Spire's entrance reminded her a lot of how she would sit on the steps of the library in New York, loitering there for hours, only to be driven home by police when it got to dark out. Only, now she was sitting with angels. Olivia, and Ezekiel, and a younger angel Phoenix had met while recovering named Ivory. In fact, Ivory was the young girl who had given Olivia Uriel's message, and delivered her new clothes. Phoenix told Ivory she wasn't too fond of wearing the angels' normal black leather and armor, but when Ivory suggested some subtle robes for her, Phoenix wanted to throw the girl.

"Call me crazy," Phoenix started, biting into an apple. She forgot where she'd gotten it from, it was just there in the library when she woke up. A whole bunch of 'em. "but is Lord Vion a little… ah dunno… creepy?"

Ezekiel snorted a laugh. "Creepy? Vion? What in heaven's name would make you think that?"

"I told you, I don't know! I just got this weird feeling about him." Phoenix flailed her arms up into the air.

"He does look at you strange…" Ivory's meek little voice confessed, but when the other three looked over to her she shrunk away shyly. "I-I mean, whenever I see him with you, he acts a little… strange…"

Olivia shoved Phoenix on the steps and gave a throaty laugh. "Please! You think any man looking you over is strange!"

Phoenix threw her arms up into the air. "It's not just that! He's always worrying about how I'm doing! He's too concerned for me! I'm just not used to that, alright?!" she barked. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, blowing a few white strands of hair out of her eyes. Immediately, she tried to change the subject. "Ivory, can you braid?"

The young scribe jumped at her request. "I can, but-"

"Braid my hair back, please. It's really buggin' me…" Phoenix huffed in a gravelly voice.

Slowly, almost like she was afraid Phoenix would strike her dead should she make a wrong move, Ivory rose up and moved to the steps behind Phoenix. "If you wish, but I only do tight braids. They tend to give me headaches sometimes." She combed Phoenix's thick hair with her delicate fingers, pulling it all back behind her ears.

It was almost like a wavy mess of pale blonde. It wasn't tangled or matted, but it wasn't neat either. It would take forever to braid her hair right, it was so thick. Almost as soon as Ivory had half a shaft of hair braided, she complained how it was almost like braiding rope. Phoenix had told her she could stop if she wanted to, but Ivory never did. Her hands did cramp up something awful afterwards, though.

"Honestly, Phoenix, I think you're being paranoid." Olivia tapped her fingernails on the marble stairs and looked up at Phoenix, watching Ivory weave thick shafts of her hair this way and that, pulling her neck back a few times and working everything into a tight braid. She looked awfully handsome with all of that hair pulled out of her face.

"Harrumph!" Phoenix huffed, dismissing the angel with a wave of her hand. "Maybe, but I know there's somethin' screwy about that guy, and if I have to, I'ma find out what it is! Maybe I am bein' paranoid, but then again, maybe I'm not." She said, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hands.

"What has you so worked up over his worry anyway?" Ezekiel pinched his bows together and waggled a hand at her. "I think when someone shows concerns for your affairs, or shows attraction to you, being grateful would be an appropriate response."

Phoenix gave a throaty laugh. "You find a bastard sorry or stupid enough to see me as 'attractive' and I just might listen to you angels for a change!" she shook her head around as Ivory finished her braid and waved them off, saying she wanted to go and get some rest. Although confused, Olivia and Ezekiel let her be as she made her way back toward the lofts.

Olivia shook her head and laughed, not being able to help herself. "She really has no idea, eh?" She elbowed Ezekiel as he stood from the steps.

Shrugging his shoulders and raking a hand through his wavy brown hair, Ezekiel nodded. "She really is beautiful; attractive features and shape, with an intelligent quality and sense of humor, although she is a little boisterous and loud." He said while beginning to walk alongside Olivia.

"Despite the truths that child dances around, she is a bit rambunctious…" Olivia replied absently. Even still, she could see why Lord Vion would be attracted to Phoenix. She was stronger than she would like to boast, and although young and ignorant, she was very smart about humans and their customs. She recalled Phoenix telling her once that unlike angels, who often saw one another as equals or weren't as prejudiced as she would have guessed, humans only saw themselves as whites, blacks, Asians, Jews, and all sorts of other things. Humans were divided amongst themselves, despite all being the same. Phoenix would rant about that fact for hours if she could, having the tonicity and the boldness to insult herself and her fellow humans. Olivia guessed that must be what she liked about Phoenix so much. She could laugh at herself and move on from there.

Perhaps angels could learn a lesson or two from girls like her, she thought.

* * *

><p>Death's body suddenly flushed with the sweet agony of desire, though should he stare a moment longer, he knew, she could kill him. But he couldn't look away.<p>

He entered the temple in hopes of finding the child he had arrived on this ancient world with, but as he progressed through its labyrinth of halls and chambers, reaching the yawning chamber at the very depths of the temple and finding the solitary pool of glowing blue waters, he came to realize that the child was… no longer a child. Before him now, stood not the small, young little human child he had encountered in the destroyed city, but rather an attractive older woman, possessing the same stunning features as the child did. Same pitch black, ringlet curls, same piercing icy blue eyes, same paper white skin, and same intense stare.

Already, something inside of him ached to surrender himself. In the recesses of his awareness, without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that the exquisite peril she elicited was just as exciting for him as it was terrifying. Of course, he would never show it.

He turned and straightened himself, pulling his black cowled cloak from his shoulders when he realized that Sabrina was watching him over her shoulder with those eerie eyes. He could barley maintain his focus in the glow of her sultry and arrogant smile.

Sabrina grabbed a fist full of her thick hair and wrung it out in the glowing waters. "Would you be so kind, Horseman, as to lend me that cloak of yours for a while?" she asked, blinking over at him. The sound of her breath carrying his name sent a shudder of longing through him. It was breathtaking.

She tied the black cloak around herself, giving the illusion of the dress. She filled that makeshift dress exquisitely well. He had to force himself to turn around.

"Death?" Sabrina's voice whispered.

The eldest horseman turned and stared, riveted, into her soul-piercing eyes as she brushed a wet ringlet behind her ear and smiled over at him. "How long have we been here?"

When Death looked into her eyes, he found it near impossible to look away unless she did so first. She rose up from the pool, the cloak tied in a loose knot just below her breasts. She held him with her gaze as she strode over to him, gracefully stepping over the slate tiles outlining the solid black granite floors. He desperately struggled to put another image into his mind, in order to resist her seductively innocent wiles. Her hand on his forearm sent a dizzying sensation of longing coursing through him. His body burned with the sudden impulse to just take her in his arms.

But why? Never had he experienced such feelings of desire, feelings of sheer lust, for an individual who only days ago was a _child_. He wasn't supposed to desire anyone so young, was he?

He wanted to punch himself. Of course he wasn't supposed to have such feelings for a child! It was sick! He had to snap off these thoughts before he could finish it.

"I've spent days searching for you." Death murmured, trying to make himself sound disinterested. "First of all, I want to know just who you are and why you are here. The Primordials have been absent, if not ambiguous to Creation for countless millennia, and now they choose to-"

Sabrina put a finger to his lips to silence him. Those fingers sent cool relief flowing through him.

"The prophecies. You have read them yourself. You know of some of the events that have come to pass, and that are yet to come. I needn't answer your questions, Death. You already know the answers." She leaned in a little closer to him and looked up at him from under her brows. "You know _a lot_ of events to come; choices to make.

Death knew what she was talking about. If he recalled the scriptures correctly, they said something about, "_the eldest of the Four Riders would be taken by the Ebon Sai; thus being bound to her for the rest of eternity." _A large part of him desperately struggled to make sense of what that meant now, to make him abandon his resistance. Mayhaps she would touch him with her power, or simply kill him and use his body to do her bidding.

She looked up, frowning. "Death, please stop thinking such awful things about me. I have no quarrel with you; why would I destroy you and possess your flesh when I need you alive?" her brows knitted in anguish and she looked to be blinking back tears, fluttering those heavy, black butterfly lashes. The silhouette of her curvaceous figure was almost as distracting as her mildly sad eyes.

Drawing a deep breath, she straightened herself and closed her eyes for a moment. "Death, I need your help." She started, her hand moved from his arm to his chest. "The universe is in grave danger. The Counsel is on the verge of destruction, as is the White City, and before you say anything, yes; so are you and your brothers.

"The Nine are going to return, but first, there are many tests that must be preformed. You, as well as many others, will have choices to make, and they will all have a great effect on the coming war."

"What war, Ebon Sai?" Death asked, going over these revelations in his mind. He wasn't sure whether she was lying or telling the truth, but he would eventually find out himself.

"The all-encompassing darkness approaches us, Horseman."

Death stared at her face. He couldn't fathom the feelings he had for her now; caring for a woman he wasn't sure he should be caring about. She was just an ordinary human woman, but she seemed to be shrouded in a strange kind of magic. It was hypnotizing to look at her. Her presence alone was enough to make him feel near to suffocate with euphoria. Even still, he knew the dire seriousness behind her words. Indeed, she needed him, and she didn't seem to be bent on destroying him to achieve those ends, but he was no less on edge about her.

Nevertheless, there was work to be done, and the White City was where the answers would be found.

* * *

><p>All through those two months at the White City, Phoenix's recovery went along like clockwork. Phoenix was actually pretty happy, despite being in a constant state of worry over her young companion's whereabouts. Uriel gave her plenty of opportunities to take her mind off of that fact, though.<p>

Andell always told Uriel how he would always see Scout working where most said the work there was to be the hardest. She went so far as to tell Andell himself she wanted to be called a few hours earlier in the mornings to put in some volunteer work at some of the things that seemed to be most needed. Andell practically beamed whenever he spoke about her.

Her answer to every problem, every setback the angels came to face, was- "We'll just have to work harder then, won't we?"- Which Uriel found personally heartwarming.

She was an excellent image of contentment. If she were an angel, Uriel thought, she would make the perfect soldier. Though Olivia said that Phoenix had no belief in the Creator, and that would conflict things greatly.

It was nearly impossible for her to step outside and across a bridge without someone calling to her, bidding her a good morning or asking how she was feeling. But as things always go, she often got more attention from someone in particular; someone who happened very friendly towards her. It was awful gentlemanly of Lord Vion to be so concerned in her affairs, but for whatever reason, it made Phoenix very uneasy.

Like they always say; being good gets you noticed, often times, by all the wrong people. Phoenix didn't really trust Lord Vion, though when confronted about her superstitions, she could never explain why. He was just so...weird. He would stare down the length of her when speaking to her, and always eager to put one of his hands on her strong shoulders, or to simply touch her, and he acted a bit too shady in her eyes. He would always ask her to visit his office at the Argent Spire whenever she could, but she always made an excuse as to avoid him. He always said he understood how busy she was, and said so in such an affectionate way, it was impossible for any other angel not to believe his good intentions.

But Phoenix knew better.


	8. The Phoenix Fire

Ivory had walked these confining halls more than enough times in her life. The lofts were a resting place for just about all the Hellguard and their guests. She had spent much time here when she was lucky enough to have some free time. Of course, many times, she was accompanied by Abbodon. Now, she was without him.

When she and Scout passed out of ear-shot of a squad of angels coming through an intersection with three stairwells, and before they reached the turn that would take them to the lofts that would be crowded with soldiers coming to and from their own lofts, Ivory glanced over. Scout was a pretty little thing, but a thing with an air of sorrow and despair about her as she swept the empty hall.

"Scout, can I ask you a personal question?"

Scout gave a heavy sigh as she strode along. "No, I'm not a boy. I should be, but sadly, I lack the equipment."

Ivory laughed. "No, that wasn't it."

"Alright then, shoot."

"Before, you said that Eris asked if you remembered anything about the day you died. You were lying weren't you?"

Scout slowed to a stop. Even in the dim light of dusk, Ivory could see that her face had paled.

"Okay, that's too personal."

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to." Ivory's pink eyes studied the ground at her feet. "I was just wondering. You seem to know a lot about us angels, but we hardly know anything about you."

"You don't want you all to know anything about me. I'm not worth the time."

"Scout,"

The human's eyes had lost their haughty glow, and she looked like nothing so much as a scared little girl. Ivory could tell that she no longer saw the empty hallway.

"I guess I should tell someone… but not here." Scout said at last.

Both were quiet until Ivory had taken her to her own loft and had her seated. The outer sitting room was decorated in white and blue. The walls were a dark blue adorned with white wave-like molding, white marble baseboard and door casings and a hardwood floor almost entirely covered in a simple, white carpet. The gilded legs of the marble-topped table and of the blue velvet, tuffed chairs were covered with a matching leaf-and-flower design. The windows were large and looked to be double paned. The glass looked to be cut-glass and sent sparkles of light dancing across the walls.

To Phoenix, it was the most boring room she had ever seen, save the beige bedroom she once had. (It was _beyond_ god awful.) The furnishing was still nicer than anything she's ever seen.

She tried to fumble with her black leather sleeve, pretending there was something about it bothering her. Other than the fact that they were too warm and stuck to her skin, there was nothing wrong with it. Her head hung low, looking to the ground around her legs. Her long braid fell over her shoulder, some stray wisps of her hair falling in around her eyes. She regretted asking Ivory to braid it. She wished it would hide her face.

"Are you alright, Scout?" Ivory's sweet voice whispered. "And… please don't lie to me."

Scout sniffed, but never faced her. She pushed her braid back over her shoulder. She wiped her nose on the heel of her hand, her lips quivering.

"No. I'm not okay. I'm really not. Then again, if you call being brought back to life after watching everyone you even loved die, than I'm just…" the word "fine" was drowned in the sound of tears.

Trying to imagine the agony of loosing someone you love stirred Ivory sympathetically. She drew Phoenix to her in a comforting hug and set her on the edge of her large bed. Phoenix buried her face in her hands and wept, freeing the tears she had tried to hold back for so long. Ivory rubbed a small hand across her back and squeezed her arm in reassurance.

"Why don't you tell me about it, about what happened that day." She brushed some of Phoenix's hair out of her face. "Sometimes it helps to have someone listen."

Phoenix flopped her arms down in her lap and leaned her head on Ivory's chest. She made an effort to control her weeping. "Why'd it have to be me? Why do I have to be here? How did this apocalypse even start?!"

Ivory smoother her hair back and put an arm around her. "Phoenix, please, it's not that simple… hardly anybody other than our hellguard know of this seriousness yet. Please, calm down."

Phoenix looked up and glowered at the angel.

"Don't ask me to calm down, you have no idea how pissed off I am!" she closed her eyes and placed her head back on Ivory. "I just wanna go home… I miss my brothers and I wanna go home…"

Ivory shushed her and continued rubbing her soft hair back. "I understand, I understand.-" that was all Ivory could say to her, even though she really didn't. She still wished that she did, to know what the sorrow felt like to lose someone. She had no one to lose.

"Scout, you really need to tell me what happened that day. You need to stop burying this in your heart, you it could kill you." She held her to her and pressed her rosy cheeks to her head.

"Now, tell me everything."

* * *

><p>Azreal's gaze swept the small study madly, trying to piece what he knew with what he was seeing. Had he had seen the archangel approaching the White City, he would have been under great stupor. There would have been a great alarm throughout the whole of Heaven if anyone who might recognize him had pointed him out. But he was here. He had to have been, he was the only angel besides Azreal who knew the existence of this blade.<p>

Azreal held the small note with trembling hands, reading it over and over to himself, trying with every fiber he had to tell himself that it wasn't really him. But it was, and he knew it. Try as he might to denounce it, her knew.

This message was from Michael.

"_My most trusted companion, I know I have been away for some time now, but something __**big **__is happening, and I fear all of creation is in grave danger._

_It has been brought to my attention that The Phoenix Fire has entered the White City. That's good. That's very good. You know what you have to do now. The Charred Counsel is lost; the living dead as we speak, and your fate, the fate of the whole of the universe, is in her hands. _

_With the Blade of the LifeFire, she has the power to stop the oncoming war, to bring forth the true Armageddon, and save us all. She is the key to determining the ultimate fate of the Three Kingdoms, and now, that blade is hers. Give it to her. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone else, not even her._

_And on another note, get all of the angels __**out **__of the White City, and do it now._

_I'll explain everything in time, I promise._

_-Michael"_

Azreal swept the shelves aside and came to the side of a pillar opposite the side of the study room. He slammed his palm into the blank wall and felt a shudder of mechanisms moving beneath the wall, opening from the middle of the wall out. Inside the dark space , he leaned closer to the pedestal, his gaze falling on the sword. The silver scabbard gleamed with gold and ruby quartz flourishes that embellished it in sweeps and waves. Steel cross guards swept out and down aggressively. Finley twisted silver wire covered the grip, and interwoven on the sides of the braided silver, gold wire formed what looked like a star-formed bird, its long neck and powerful wings stretching up into the sky. This, Azreal knew, was the sword of a hero. The Sword of LifeFire; weapon of The Phoenix.

Azreal picked up the sword by the point of its scabbard, holding the hilt of it in his other hand.

As if in a daze, he closed his fingers around the hilt and squeezed, his knuckles turning white with ire. Closing his eyes, he could feel the fury of the magnificent blade vertibrating in the air around him. It made it an effort to control his breathing. All doubt seemed to flow away from his being. He knew now just what was upon him. He knew what would happen, and what steps needed to be taken to ensure that there would be no hesitation in doing as he was requested.

Perhaps, this was his redemption. Maybe, this was his chance to make up for the betrayal of his actions, to bring justice to the Kingdom of Man, as well as the other Three Kingdoms. Yes, this was it.

He tucked the sword in the sleeve of his extravagant robe, hoping to conceal it to not start a panic, and stormed out of the Ivory Citadel. He had to get to the Phoenix, fast.

* * *

><p>"Grab it, Scout."<p>

Phoenix stared as Azreal held the hilt of the glorious sword out to her, holding it by its scabbard.

"It is your, child." Azreal whispered, Olivia, Ezekiel, Ivory and Uriel watching from the dark corner of Ivory's quiet loft.

She closed her fingers around the hilt of the sword and pulled it free, the blade making a ringing, metallic sound that hung in the air. Phoenix had never heard a sword make a sound like it. Her hand closed tightly around the grip, and in her palm and on her fingers opposite she could feel the bumps on the gold wire that outlined the bird on each side of the hilt pressing painfully into her flesh. Inexplicitly, it felt so right. The weight fit her perfectly. She felt like part of her had been made a whole.

From deep within her, she felt her anger stir, being brought to life, searching for some kind of direction. She was suddenly aware of the stone lodged in her chest.

As her rage grew, she felt an awakening power rushing into her from the sword, the twin to her own anger. Her own feelings had always felt distraught, incomplete, but now… this was like having an image in a mirror come to life. It was terrifying. Her anger fed on the force from the sword, and in turn, the wrath from the sword fed on her anger. Together, the twin storms spiraled through her; it could be seen in her eyes. She felt like a helpless bystander, being dragged along this way and that. It was frightening., but at the same time, a seductive sensation walked the fine line between comfort and violation. Almost.

Fearful perceptions of her own anger twisted with tingling promise. The bewitching emotion rushed headlong, seizing her anger, soaring with it. Phoenix struggled to control her rage. She was on the brink of panic, and felt she might faint. Azreal threw his hand back with a shout. Phoenix's eyes snapped up from the sword to the archangel of Death, who's arm was now covered in somber red flames.

Utterly shocked, Phoenix flung herself over to him, catching his sleeve with her fingers and gripping the cloth in a vice hold.

The fire extinguished.

Everyone in the room was still. Their breathing could be heard. Phoenix's head spun. All she did was touch him, she didn't pat him out or suffocate the flames any, she just touched him, and the fire went out. Her wide eyes stared dumbly at the angel in front of her, who stared just as dumbly back.

When his lips next moved, his voice sounded like it was coming from further away.

"The Phoenix has arisen."

* * *

><p>"Thinking?"<p>

Sabrina's head turned toward the raspy voice, jolting her from her thoughts. Death stood beside her, having come to her unnoticed. She looked away from his eyes, answering in a soft hum.

"Just having a moment of weakness." She said. She cleared her throat and blinked back tears.

He turned his head back at her, then returned to gazing out toward the morose ocean.

"Not a weakness, when your following orders."

She swallowed back the lump in her throat; the urge to cry that was trying to pierce its way out of her throat. She felt so alone, and the guilt of abandoning her beloved companion made matters even worse for her. Death didn't move much, however, he stood a bit closer beside her.

"I was thinking about Scout and my family." Her eyes hardened, but they couldn't hide the hurt that lingered there. "I could have saved them. My family and Scout. I could have saved them from the demons. I've had this gift since I was born. I was a Gifted Exalted." She paused a moment and stared at the ground, at her bare feet, glowing in the low light, and at the folds and creases in the cloak wrapped around her curvy form. "I watched them all die… But I had already committed myself to the Silence. I could never mourn, even after I killed myself…" she licked her bottom lip and closed her eyes, the memory of her suicide flushing out any other image she tried to put into her mind. It was either that, or the horrified faces of her mother and father when they were being eaten alive.

Death stood beside her, silently listening to her draw a deep and shaky breath. Deep down, he understood her guilt, understood the pain of that kind of act; leaving others to die for sake of a bigger picture.

"Though you and I are different beings, we feel and hurt the same." He admitted.

He hooked his fingers in the belt loops of his pants and stood quietly. Sabrina stood straight and still beside him, hands clasped delicately in front of her. She watched the ocean with him in silence.

Sabrina turned her head beside her as a small, bright grey dragon climbed up the rocks and submissively crawled to her heels. She felt its cold, moist, and scaly muzzle lift the cloak up and crawl around her legs. She felt it lick at her legs. It flexed its wings a little and sat there contentedly, without fear. She was suddenly aware or the small, dome-shaped stone in the middle of her forehead.

"It seems my master knows I am not well." Sabrina said dryly, her smile warming the air about her.

"Your master?" death shifted his weight to his other foot, rolling his ankle to ease the stiffness. "And here I thought that none were above your power."

She gave an arrogantly smug smile. "The Ebon Dragon gave me my power, he can just as easily take it away. He is my master."

A small smile brightened Death's face as he gave a single nod. His long, raven black hair slipped off of his shoulders and down around his face, hiding his expression from her. Sabrina sat a while on a stone beside the cave they had been staying in and listened as the wind rustled the trees about. She could feel the small dragon breathing against her heels; breathing even, deep breaths. She felt comfort in its hot breath.

"You wish to kill Abrigor?" Death asked suddenly. He didn't face her, but he could feel her anger rise at the mention of the demon responsible for the hindrance of humanity's resurrection.

'Very much."

"And is your power enough?"

"No."

"Is Scout's? The human you're so concerned about?" this time, Death cast a glance at her.

"Once she learns to control it." Sabrina said.

"And how will she? How can she learn to tame some force that hasn't been witnessed in countless eons? How can a century old child possibly learn to do that which you say she must?" Death asked.

Grey clouds gathered above them. A light rain began again, the gloom returning to the strange, old world. Sabrina took a deep breath, then spoke softly.

"I am to help her find a way. She will not need much help. She is very smart, very stubborn. She will learn, with my help." She shivered a little and hugged her arms. Í don't think I need to put into words what kind of terrible power Abrigor has tapped into. I fear that without Scout, we may all be lost."

He was silent for a minute. "Is the Counsel really going to be destroyed?"  
>"Yes. If I'm not mistaken, the bond has already broken. They are gone." She said, her face held no emotion.<p>

Death seemed to laugh without sound. He leaned against the wall of the cave and folded his arms over his strong chest. "You and I are too smart for this banter." He tilted his head to one side, smirking at her. "Let us talk without it."

Over the course of two months, he found himself growing rather close to the young woman he was now stuck with. Therein, he discovered the meaning of the prophecy that had irked him so much about being alone with the Ebon Sai. Indeed, she was pleasing enough for his eyes, and intelligent enough to rival him. Her arrogance gave him a sense of familiarity and her elegance and grace gave him something to admire. Yes, he knew he was beginning to have feelings for this woman, but wasn't sure whether or not they were positive or negative yet.

Sabrina let out a sigh and faced him. Blinking slowly up at the eldest Nephilim, she gave a small smile.

"I get the feeling you know more about things then you let on."

Seeing her shiver, he walked over and put an arm around her, rubbing up her soft, pale arm. She leaned a bit onto him, shutting out the cold, wet breeze. When she next looked, she saw a faint mischievous glow in his eyes.

"I have read many scrolls on the prophecies. Not all of it makes sense, but I piece together what I can."

In a tender, unexpected movement, he drew her to him, lightly squeezing her arm. Sabrina had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, that things were escalating just where she wanted them. She knew he was referring to the part of the prophecies where the Exalted Ebon Sai "takes" the eldest of the Four Riders. She could feel her cheeks heat up.

She gave him a look and chuckled for a moment. "Really? And you think you're up to the task?"

Death threw his head back with a laugh. He did enjoy her company.

* * *

><p>Phoenix looked sadly at the sword in her hands.<p>

"Umm, Azreal, what the hell are you talkin' about?"

Sitting on the blue velvet chair in Ivory's loft, she listened to Azreal tell her of the coming war she was to defend the Good against, and she was beyond confused. She didn't know what these Primordials were, or what she had to do with them, but Azreal seemed pretty keen on explaining it to her. However, he was in a state of hysteria after what happened with the fire, so whenever he tried to explain, it didn't make too much sense.

Ivory took Phoenix by her arm and mentioned her toward her bed. Ezekiel and Uriel took Azreal out and Olivia said she needed some air, so she and Phoenix were alone.

"Scout, this may take a bit of understanding, but try to wrap your mind around as much as you can.

"Long, long ago, before angels and demons, before the Creator, even, there was a counsel of Nine all-powerful beings. And they all ruled nine separate realms. They were said to have given countless gods and goddesses life, including the Creator himself. The Charred Counsel, the force that is in charge of the universe as of now, told the kingdoms of Heaven and Hell when they came into power that those tales were merely a myth; that there was no higher power than themselves or the Creator.

"It is said that the Primordials were the nine beings that pulled our reality from the Primordial Chaos, and when they did so, they created the gods to govern it. But a few of those gods grew complacent and lazy as they waited for the Primordials to take over again. Eventually, they turned to one another's creations and mortal life forms as things of entertainment, slaughtering the innocent and glorifying the corrupted. The Primordials saw this and were outraged, so, the Morning War was incited; a war of gods against their brethren and the Primordials themselves. The corrupt gods were all but destroyed. Only one of the Primordials' children, The Creator, survived the war, and proved himself worthy of his life by his first task of redemption.

"The Primordials created us all; Angels, Demons, and Humans alike, as a test kingdom for the Creator. He was to give us the tools to lead lives of peace and freedom, and to live free of darkness and corruption. He had succeeded with most of those tasks, but even in the fall of Lucifer and his legions, which the Primordials fully intended, he still enforced the philosophy of living in the light."

Phoenix searched the young scribe's eyes, like searching for a reason beyond all of the madness she had just heard.

"What?" she asked, dumbfounded beyond anything she could even describe.

"Phoenix, the magic of the sword didn't reject you. That was a Primordial relic that Heaven has been hiding from the Counsel four countless millennia. It accepted you." She paused for a moment and sucked her bottom lip through her teeth, her brows wrinkling together like she was afraid Phoenix would slap her should she speak.

"Meaning?"

"It means that you are the Phoenix Fire. You have Primordial magic." Ivory's voice sounded breathy, like she was terrified to speak against the forces in charge of her universe.

"You are the most powerful being in Creation."


	9. The Horsemen Cometh

_Nobody ever really told me I could ever amount to anything, and whenever someone did, I did something to prove them wrong. Not on purpose, of course, but I still manage to screw everything up. _

_Prophecies or no prophecies; I didn't have a clue how I was supposed to save everyone. In case you haven't noticed, telling a kid like me that they're supposed to save the entire universe is dropping quite the bomb._

_I just wanted to go home. But there was no home, not unless I did this…_

* * *

><p>Phoenix stared at the gleaming silver and red scabbard lying across her lap. The twisted magic from the blade whispered to her, humming in her ears. Although frightening, the foreign magic was comforting for her. The newfound warmth felt a little awkward at first, like a newborn deer walking on untried legs, but after a little while, she grew fond of its fearsome wiles.<p>

In her mind though, she didn't understand any of what was happening around her. She was just suddenly tossed into a battle, and she didn't know what she was supposed to do in the midst of all of this. Again, she felt internally helpless, and only wanted answers.

"What do you know about the Nine?" She asked Ivory, who was reclined in a chair over by the window.

"I do not know much. Those tales were before my time. I haven't heard much about them. What I told you was all that I know." She said, placing her cheek in the heel of her hand.

"Well, do you at least know who they are?" Phoenix asked as she set the blade on the floor beside her.

"Well, if memory serves there is The Unconqured Sun, Fotis, Alvos, Soulfson, Frostbane, Dearkon, Yggdrasil, the Ebon Dragon, and…" Ivory had to force herself to swallow before she finished. "And The Phoenix."

She wished she could tell Phoenix more about the Primordials, but she was ignorant to most of the tales. Being only a century of age, she was too young to remember any of the old tales, and very few would dare to repeat them.

* * *

><p>Sabrina rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Dawn was leaking in around the heavy, dark openings in the trees. Silver sunlight dappled in spots on the mossy forest floor. She sat up in the gloomy clearing, listening to the light drizzle in the surrounding forest. Rain sprinkled all around her. She didn't think she had ever awoken feeling this good. She reached over to tell Death as much. However, Death wasn't there.<p>

When she stretched, her leg-muscles protested; they were sore from the night's… activities. She guessed it was simply the thought of the cause that made her smile at the mild ache. She never would've guessed that sore muscles could feel so pleasant.

She stuffed her arms in Death's black cloak and wrapped it around herself. She closed it shut around her neck and held it to her waist with one arm. The sounds coming from the forest made her heart swell with joy. As did the sight.

Death stood in the rain, one hand raking his hair back, the other in a fist at his hip. He smiled over his shoulder at her.

"Sleep well, Ebon Sai?"

Eyes half opened, Sabrina smiled. "I should say so." She grinned. "What little sleep I got, anyway."

Death shook his head and laughed, almost to himself. A boyish grin split his face. Before turning back to the tranquil forest, Sabrina strolled around behind him and put an arm around his waist.

"The Consummation is complete, Horseman." She said softly.

He made an agreeable sound deep in his throat, staring off at the woods. Not being able to help herself, Sabrina grinned. "Seems as though you are just fine with the idea of conception…"

A frown quickly settled on Death's face. He leveled her a look that said everything and nothing.

"Woman, I could damn well leave you here!" he grumbled, drawing a smoky laughter from the Ebon Sai.

"Oh, you would miss me, old fool." Sabrina smiled, stretching up onto her tiptoes and planting a soft kiss to the eldest Nephilim's jaw, which he graciously accepted. "Even still, you can't leave me here, and you know it. Now, prepare to leave this world."  
>Death shot her a questioning squint. "We're departing already?" his gravelly voice inquired.<p>

"Yes. We're leaving now. We haven't much time. First, we have to meet back with your brothers and head for the White City."  
>"But-"<br>"I'll explain everything when we get there. Trust me." She gave him an innocently keen smile over her shoulder as she turned away from him.

* * *

><p>Strife glanced back over his shoulder. His tattered black cloth fluttered in the dim light of Heaven's new dawn. The dull and cool breeze was oddly cold for Heaven, but he paid it no mind.<p>

His dark grey helmet glimmered as he turned his head this way and that atop his white steed. He let out an exasperated breath. What War had told him a few months earlier made him want to empty his rounds into his younger brother's skull.

A human. War swore up and down that he had seen a human. After all these years.

Even if Death had re-sown the seeds of humanity, and sacrificed the souls of the Nephilim in the process, that bratty demon child the Counsel spoke of had said that she had placed an ancient curse on the Well of Souls. None can pass of enter the Well.

Could War have been mistaken? No, he might have been a few cans shy of a case, but he knows an angel or a demon when he sees one. What else could it have been?

Behind his concealing headgear, Strife glowered at the White City. Its palaces, towers, and plazas only meant to impress, so he thought. Each structure vied for attention with towering columns, elaborate ornamentation, and flamboyant sweeps of windows, roofs, and decorated entablatures. To Strife however, they were nothing but stone peacocks: a waste of marble and gold if he'd ever seen one.

"The realm of the Counsel is closed to us, brother. I no longer feel the link." Fury's voice declared from beside of him.

Indeed, the realm was closed to them, for some untold reason. Even still, before they had departed to the White City after their encounter with the fabled Ebon Sai, the Counsel went in a fit of absolute rage, demanding the humans be destroyed.

But why children? War gave a thorough description of the creature he had encountered in the Destroyed City, mentioning that she must have been in adolescence. Mortals didn't live very long. An adolescent human was laughably young. Strife thought humans a waste of time and life, but the Counsel declared those weak creatures to be integral to the Balance.

The Creator's favorites.

One of his siblings had called them that once, but he couldn't exactly recall who it was. No matter. He had a job to do. As a Horseman of the Apocalypse, it was his duty to uphold and maintain Balance. News of a human being kicking up dirt in the White City, and with a fabled Ebon Sai running around and kidnapping the eldest Horseman traveled much quicker than the fearsome brotherhood could have anticipated. That news, and the very possibility, threatened that Balance.

When Strife first saw Sabrina after her transformation, he nearly swallowed his tongue. She had that effect on nearly all of Death's brothers. The way she filled Death's cloak made the eldest Horseman often stumble over his words like a fool. Never had any of the other Horsemen seen such ridiculous behavior out of Death before.

When she locked her blue eyes on Strife, he often had trouble remembering how to breathe.

Sabrina carried herself with slow grace, as well as arrogance, and a sense of superiority. She almost always held that emotionless gaze, and now that her oath of Silence was over with the Consummation, she spoke with words that could kill. Literally. She delivered the truth of the events to come to such a stunning degree, it almost seemed as though she was casting a spell. Especially when she spoke words of prophecies. With every word that rolled off of her tongue, there was stark truth behind it. But she did have a sense of humor. A dry, sardonic, morbid, and smoky sense of humor, but a sense of humor nonetheless.

She never walked, rather, she glided, like a dark swan. However, as delicate and graceful as she seemed, Death knew her to be like a glass doll made up of iron.

* * *

><p>Kolo gripped Securii's arm as she sniffed the air. She snarled and held a clawed hand in front of his face. The fur on the haughty Nephilim's body stood rigid, signaling her frustration.<p>

"I said no! Leave well enough alone, Kolo!" she growled, tearing her one arm from his massive hand.

"Securii, just tell me what you thought you saw! The visions are very important, you know this as well. What are you seeing every time you look at any of us?" he asked, turning his yellow eyes down to her sharp grey ones.

Being a Nephilim was hard, no doubt. Being the Mother Shifter was hard, too. But adding the stress of an Exalted Nephilim with the trying gift of a Seer on top of all of that made matters much worse for Securii. After all, she never chose to be the way she was; half animal, all outsider. Just like the rest of her fellow Exalted.

Kneeling to the ground and gathering a handful of rocks in her fist, she sniffed the air again. "I told you, it was nothing." She picked up a separate fistful of dirt and inhaled deeply through her mouth, tasting the air. "Even still, I haven't found a meaning to any of it all…" she grumbled.

"Perhaps I could help you, sister."

She halted and slowly turned her head to face him. "Mirrors."

"What?"  
>"I see a demoness surrounded by mirrors."<p>

Kolo lifted an eyebrow. "Mirrors? And do you know who this demoness is?"

She shook her head, her deep umber red hair swaying across her face. Her thick braid fell from behind her back. "No. she was young. _Very_ young. And, there was something very strange about her, although I cannot say for sure what it was. I just looked at her, and I almost felt nauseous. You see? It makes no sense. It could mean nothing. I told you, I get those visions sometimes."

"That's it? Just mirrors?"

Securii fussed with her hair. "no. it's not only me I see." Her frown deepened. "I see War."

Kolo snapped his mouth shut. "War? Our brother, War?"

She let out a weary breath. "Yes. I see two visions of him. Kolo, I don't know what they mean."

"What are you seeing?"

"Circles. I see War running around in circles. And then, I… I see him burning." She swallowed. "He is literally burning to death, and he's furious. More than I have ever seen him; so furious, he's in tears. In his hands, he's holding a dead bird."

She stood erect and dusted her palms on her knees. Walking onward, she spat on her claws and slashed the bare trunk of a tree close by. "I don't understand these visions all of the time. It's not clear to me- you know how my visions work sometimes- but I know the mixture of messages around them."

Kolo gave her shoulder a gentle, if not affectionate squeeze.

"If you learn anything more, tell us. Maybe we can help." She nodded. "And at once. It could prophecy from Alvos again."

Her eyes sought the ground as she nodded again. Her head tilted toward the clearing in the sprinkling forest ahead. "The Ebon Sai was here. The rain makes it difficult to track her sent from here though. And she wasn't alone."

* * *

><p>There was no need to announce their arrival; just the sight of the Horsemen alone drove a wave of panic before the White City the way the sight of wolves drove a flock of sheep, but when people saw the Ebon Sai holding onto the eldest Horseman by his waist, then they really grew terrified.. Angels shouted and scattered, some face first into the pavement as they tried to scramble away. They took to the air like scared pidgins.<p>

The panic, Sabrina knew, was a good sign. Aside from her flesh, they saw her power, knew exactly who she was. At first, they thought they might have gone mad; that they were seeing things that weren't really there. Of course, it was hard to ignore the Four Horsemen and the pale woman riding through the White City in broad daylight. She held her emotionless look, glancing ahead at nothing while the Horsemen rode, but the twinkle in her eye revealed that she must've been having the time of her life.

A good forty or fifty Hellguard troops milled outside of the Argent Spire. Only about twelve looked to be formally posted. Without slowing, they advanced toward the Spire, stopping at its entrance.

Gracefully, Sabrina swung her legs over Despair's flank and landed to the ground with a faint thud. She cut a straight line through the knot of angels. The armored men all stumbled back out of the way, shock registering on their faces as they took in the mind-boggling sight. Although, they didn't panic the way the angels in the city had.

This, Sabrina confirmed, was definitely where Scout was.

* * *

><p>Phoenix's attention was drawn by the sudden uproar of activity that seemed to be going on outside the window. Both she and Ivory shuffled over to investigate. The cut-glass fashion made things difficult to see, but Phoenix could barely make out the shapes of four figures riding fast over the bridges, heading toward the center of the city. She heard Ivory gasp and before she could summon a second thought, the young scribe grabbed her by her wrist.<p>

Ivory pulled Phoenix out of her loft and into the hall, immediately greeting Uriel with her wide pink eyes.

"The Horsemen are here, Uriel!" She breathed, in a near panic.

Phoenix heard Uriel curse and shout orders to close of the area. She rushed into Ivory's room and watched the four figures approaching. Her brows twitched, and her composure looked a little lost for a moment.

"What are they even doing here?" Ivory squeaked to Uriel, who was now out of the room and dragging Phoenix by her arm.

"I haven't a clue," Uriel pulled Phoenix along through the expansive hallway. "but I want you to stay hidden."  
>"What?!" Phoenix spat. "Why do I have to-"<p>

"Scout, please. You have no idea how dangerous those Horsemen can be. They will slaughter without a second thought." She put a fist on her hip and nodded toward a small study at the end of the hall. "You're a human being. As far as I'm concerned, Heaven wants you alive. The brotherhood may want otherwise. It depends on their orders."

She shoved Phoenix off into the small room. Phoenix kept her eyes on the large windows, not arguing another word. She was watching the Horsemen, one in particular, the rider on the huge, black horse- War- whom she had met in the city. Still, she didn't want to hide away while those four mutton-heads were out running around, killing every angel they set their sights on.

Uriel locked the door behind her. She spun on her heels and bounded for the exit. She ordered Olivia take Ivory to meet with Azreal at the Library of the Argent Spire and wait with him there, while Ezekiel was to stay close to that office and make sure Phoenix would not leave, or worse, one of the Horsemen go in.

* * *

><p>Uriel's armor sparkled in the light. At any other time, an angel would've been sent as an escort to the Horsemen, lest they arrive on a not so peaceful pretence. Uriel had sworn that if her line of duty called for the destruction of one of the Horsemen, she would not hesitate, but the sudden arrival of War and his brothers made her uneasy. As they closed the distance between her and the Imundii Spire, she noticed Death go off on a different course, toward the Argent Spire.<p>

"What brings you all here Riders? We have received no word that you would be coming here." Uriel demanded.

None of the Horsemen dismounted, but instead looked down on Heaven's Champion and her small garrison of angels. Such bad manners.

"Word of human life has been delivered to the Counsel," War spoke up. "and if the claims are true, the mortal resides here, in the White City."

For a moment, Uriel faltered at the thought of Phoenix in the hands of the Counsel and found it unnerving. Then again, the Counsel was a force dedicated to the Balance. Phoenix was a child of the Kingdom of Man, a force said to be integral to the balance. Was she not a part of that Balance, as well as the other human child?

"Perhaps, Horsemen. What would the Counsel purpose to do with such a creature, should they find her?"

War's stoic frown never faltered; neither did the grim expressions of the other two Horsemen. Uriel raised her sword in apprehension.

"By the command of the Charred Counsel, the mortal must die."

It took everything Uriel had in her to keep from screaming at the man. Fury did whisper something indistinct to War, but he seemed to pay it no mind. The sister Horsemen looked a bit weary after that moment, although Uriel would never be able to tell if it were real or not.

"On what grounds?" the Hellguard barked.

"On the grounds that the Counsel ordered her destruction." War growled back. "The human is a threat, and she must be eliminated. Where is she?"

"She was here," Uriel said, lowering her sword. "but she demanded that we return her to Earth. She said something about some unfinished business, but nothing else."

Her ears burned. As a Hellguard soldier; a Champion of Heaven, she was sworn to an oath of integrity, honor, virtue, and honesty. A code by which all angels are bound. Yet, here she was, lying to the faces of the Four Horsemen; lying through her teeth. Absolute rage boiled in the angel's stomach. It was impossible, she thought. Such a young, enduring, charming young girl couldn't possibly pose a threat to the Counsel's precious balance.

Uriel suddenly remembered who Phoenix really was.

"You aren't a very convincing liar, Uriel…" Strife grumbled.

She glowered up at the Nephilim. "Feel free to search the entire city, but it will be futile. You won't find her; she isn't here. Do you think, as a servant to the Creator, as the Champion of the White City, that I would abandon his conduct for some mere human?" those words made her want to slap herself, but she couldn't help it. There was something about Phoenix that made Uriel feel somehow familiar. Like she knew her from somewhere, but couldn't quite place a bead on where she knew her from. Something about Phoenix gave Uriel an ease and freedom she had never known in all her life. Perhaps, it was just the naivety of her youth. Or maybe, there was something more to her than Uriel knew. Perhaps she was familiar to her in more ways than one.

* * *

><p>Sabrina turned her attention to one scribe in particular; a young lady, no older than Phoenix it seemed, with wavy white hair, and the most stunning, delicate, and adorable champagne pink eyes, which were wide with awe. Her dainty hands trembled at her sides, and her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. Sabrina could hear her mind screaming at her to stop staring at the woman, but her body wouldn't oblige.<p>

"And, how are your studies coming along, child?" Sabrina asked, tracing the back of her white fingers along the angel's cheeks.

Trembling like dead leaved, the scribe answered. "V-very well, Ebon Sai." she squeaked, her cheeks flushed red.

Sabrina gave her a tender smile; not the tight-lipped smile she gave only to Phoenix, but a warm smile nonetheless. Her sickly discolored lips delivered a morbidly warm look. The angel stared at her as if the Creator himself had spoken to her.

"What's your name?" Sabrina asked; a soft, silky sound that seemed to turn the entire library into a pleasant place.

"I-Ivory." she stuttered with a wincing bow of her head.

The wavy locks of her snow-white hair swayed across her cheek bones as she was brought to face the Ebon Sai by the woman's icy fingers. She forced herself to look into her terrifying eyes, and almost instantly was lost in a shroud of serenity and tranquility. Just by staring into her icy blue eyes, she felt as if there was literally nothing else in the universe but her and The Ebon Sai. She didn't feel afraid anymore.

"Ivory, I want you to listen very carefully," Sabrina whispered. "the Creator will need your help. There are prophecies I want you to collect for me. They are all in the Argent, Imundii, and Crystal Spires. I trust you can bring them back to me?" Ivory nodded vacantly. "Then, something will happen. I don't care what you feel, or how heartbroken or terrified you become, but after you bring me those scrolls, you cannot return to the White City. Do I make myself clear?" Ivory again nodded, not once looking away from her eyes.

"Y-You'd hypnotize me, Ebon Sai?" she asked, hardly a whisper.

"Only so you don't forget."

Ivory beamed, and in front of all of the other angels, she reached behind the child and slipped the bright scarlet cloth wraps from Ivory's wings, dropping them to the floor.

"You won't be needing these anymore. After today, they won't matter." Sabrina said, taking Ivory's small shoulders and kissing her forehead.

Ivory's round eyes stared up at Sabrina in open wonderment. She had been kissed by an Ebon Sai; a privilege beyond anything any angel could ever earn, and yet, she chose her! Of all the angels to trust with a request as important as hers, she chose an Invisible.

* * *

><p>Ivory felt she might faint. She couldn't get over the fact that the Ebon Sai had spoken to her! Personally, and given her an important task! Despite being ecstatic about being noticed by one of the important people for once, she was nervous about going to all of the spires to collect prophecies. The feeling gnawed at her insides, and her stomach roiled.<p>

The entrance to the Imundii Spire was guarded by three large Hellguard soldiers. The look of steel in those men's eyes told her they were not familiar with her presence, like the guards at the Argent Spire.

One held an armored hand out when she approached them.

"Halt, child. State your business."

She wished the Ebon Sai was with her now. The guards would either run away, or let her pass without question. "I was sent here. I was a scribe." she said weakly.

She heard one of the men laugh. "You are a scribe? You don't look familiar, child." He waved her off dismissively. "You can get into a lot of trouble for pretending to be a scribe, girl. Lucky for you, I happen to be in a good mood. Run along and stay out of trouble." He said, spinning her around by her shoulders and shoving her foreword.

"She is everything but troublesome," came an amicable voice from behind the men, at the entrance of the spire. "and she was not pretending to be a scribe; I named her myself."

The three soldiers turned. A vigorous older man filled the doorway. A head of full, straight white hair hair hung to his broad shoulders. He was wearing elegant blue and gold embellished robes that hovered about a thumbnail's length from the ground. A sign of his high standing.

It was the Angel of Death himself; Azreal.

For a moment, Ivory's breath caught itself in her throat. She couldn't keep her cheeks from reddening. The guards seemed just as jumpy.

"Forgive us, my lord." One of them said, bowing his head along with the other two. "We hadn't seen a young scribe that looked like her in this spire before." He stammered. "Uriel ordered that we be extremely cautious."

Azreal dismissed the soldier's excuse with a flip of his hand.

"Never mind it."

The Angel of Death took Ivory by both of her small shoulders and walked inside. Ivory walked quivering. She wasn't sure who she feared more, the Hellguard soldiers or the Angel of Death. She had no idea what to do or say to him, even though she sort of knew him. He was much higher in status than she, and young angels like her weren't worthy of speaking to an angel like him.

Azreal turned to her, his solemn smile evaporating as he regarded her with a hawk-like gaze. "The Ebon Sai sent you, didn't she?" he asked her.

To Ivory, he had the most handsome voice she had ever heard. His penetrating white eyes frightened her though. His big hands on her shoulders made her feel like her legs became water, but she still walked on.

"Y-yes, my lord. She was at the library in the Argent Spire. She sent me to retrieve some prophecies for her." She answered, watching the marble floor at her feet.

Azreal said nothing, but walked with her through all of the expansive hallways and staircases of the Imundii Spire. His presence provided a comforting feeling, and his expression provided a voice for her concern. Perhaps, even, an answer. Maybe he would help, she thought.

* * *

><p>"Uriel!"<p>

The Hellguard angel spun on her heels in the center of the expansive corridor, at her fellow Hellguard wobbling through the archway. Instantly, she took concern to his voice. It was Andell.

"What? What is it?" she asked, stepping away from Olivia and Ezekiel. Pantera was being carried by Ezekiel, and peered over his shoulder, watching Uriel closely.

"The other human, she's here. But-" Andell couldn't speak past the lump in his throat.

"You did not let anything happen to her, did you?" Uriel asked hurriedly.

He didn't answer; the magic wouldn't let him. Uriel's eyes flicked over to the far side of the corridor. Light lit over the curvaceous woman in a silver cast. The Four Horsemen shadowed her. She moved gracefully through the hall, head held high, and back stiff and straight, face void of any emotion.

Uriel felt her heart leap into her throat at the quick flash of her icy blue eyes. She knew those eyes; had seen them with her own eyes once before. The angel suddenly felt like she would vomit. Uriel put a hand over her mouth, hiding her gag as best as she could. Pantera hissed loudly, laying her ears flat against her head. She scrambled to be let free, and Ezekiel dropped her to the floor for fear of her poisonous bite. At that she hissed again and bolted in the opposite direction. The pup's behavior sent shivers up Uriel's arms and to the base of her neck.

Her breath caught in her throat. Her mind raced, trying to fit what she was seeing with what she knew. She knew what the woman was. She could feel her power emanating off of her, like cold death.

For a moment, the woman was completely silent. Her emotionless face terrified Uriel even more. She mentioned for one of the Four to open a door beside her. With a nod of her head, she ordered Uriel inside.

Uriel nearly tripped over herself, trying to keep her distance from the Ebon Sai as she went over to the small office. The Ebon Sai followed on her heels, as well as the Horsemen. Uriel wanted so badly to run away screaming, but knew if she did, she would be killed.

Or worse, touched by the Ebon Sai's power.

* * *

><p>With a contemptuous sneer, War thrust a gauntleted hand toward the woman, bent on crushing her throat in his fist. Before Death could warn him, War crumpled to the ground with a cry. He tried to stand, but collapsed with a groan, hugging himself as if he had been stabbed in the gut. Terrified, Fury reached for the door lever and twisted it, yanking the door open. Confounded faces peered.<p>

"Bring us the human! The Ebon Sai demands it!" she shouted.

Fury didn't need a roomful of Hellguard soldiers getting themselves killed while trying to save Uriel from something they couldn't understand. She knew that the angels, although some wouldn't know the meaning of those words, they knew when a Horseman grew weary over something, it was truly a force to be reckoned with.

Armor sparkled and glinted in the sunlight as angels squabbled about, shouting orders. Fury turned back into the room. She didn't want a pack of Hellguard angels getting in her way now. Fury saw Sabrina sitting straight and still, wearing her emotionless face. War clutched his arms across his abdomen and vomited blood. She watched down her nose at him, waiting.

Once his wrenching had stopped she stood up and glided over to him. She squat in front of him and lifted his chin with a finger. Her charcoal ringlets slid across her exquisite shoulders as she leaned closer.

"That, nephilim, would be a very big mistake." She said with silky conviction. "If you so much as split a hair on that child's head, I will personally teach you a whole new meaning of wrath. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-you,,, know… t-the… human?" War managed to pant.

A brow rose over her eyes. "Know her? Why, I owe her my life. She was my Guardian."

War stared, transfixed. The Ebon Sai owed her life to a mere mortal? That was impossible. The Ebon Sai alone has the power to annihilate entire worlds, given permission by her master; surely she had enough power to defend herself. What could a human possibly do to protect her?

"I can see what you're wondering," Sabrina told him. "I see how you don't understand how a mere human could've posed as a Guardian to me? Well, not only did she protect me, but her valorous attempts to keep me from harm earned her my affections." Her gloriously grey lips curved into a smile. "I love her."

Her eyes swept the room, slowly, before falling on Uriel. "Now, I can promise you that no harm will come to Phoenix, or anyone in the White City. You have to understand that she must return with me if she wants to learn to control her gift." She whispered with soul penetrating malice.

Her cold eyes sent a shiver down Uriel's spine. She was terrified by what she was facing. She was familiar to the pain the sheen of death the Ebon Sai caused, and she didn't want to relive the terror. She held her hands in fists in her lap to conceal the trembling.

"Sabrina…" Death whispered. "There is no need to-"

Sabrina looked over her shoulder to the eldest Horseman, staring with her cold eyes. Although he had grown used to her glares, it was still frightening to look into those eyes. He felt a sliver of sympathy at the thought of Uriel having seen those eyes before. No one looked that terrified unless they were coming face to face with a terror they had once faced in the past.

Sabrina gave a throaty laugh. "I had no intention of harming her, Death. I have no quarrel with the angel. War was another story, surely you understand that?"

"I understand, Sabrina, but using that power like you were here can cause a panic." He said, gesturing to War.

Sabrina straightened, casting a glance to the shivering nephilim on the floor. With a moment of stillness, War's breathing evened and he stopped clutching himself so hard. A small smile curled at the corners of Sabrina's mouth. War didn't smile. He was furious.

"I would very much appreciate it if you would stop envisioning all of those nasty things you want to do to me, War." Sabrina breathed, more like a threatening hiss than a warning. She tossed a lock of ringlets over her shoulder. "That was the least of what I can do, so I assume you would rather be thankful than spiteful."

If it had been entirely up to her, War would be sobbing and begging for mercy, or death. But he was needed, and anyways, it would be a waste of her valuable time, so she thought.

"An angel is coming with Scout, as I requested?" she regarded Uriel, paying no further mind to the Horsemen.

Uriel blinked down at the floor, tugging the sleeve of her leather, straightening it down her arm. "Yes, Ebon Sai. Andell is bringing her here now."

The cold blue eyes locked on Uriel, concerning her. "Do you know Phoenix?" Sabrina asked, speaking quietly.

"Almost everybody knows Scout."

"And what do you think about her?"

"Me?" Uriel asked shakily. "Well, personally, I adore her. She is a bit troublesome at times, but she is an active member of the community. She has been ever since she was healed after we brought her here."

With a glance at the radiant figure beside of her, Uriel suddenly looked unafraid to her. "She says that the only reason she works so hard is to keep her mind busy." She smiled and shook her head. "She thinks our city is boring; she thinks us all a bit boring…" Uriel blinked suddenly. "and have you seen her talents? Illustrating, sketching, and painting? She's really marvelous. Very bright young woman too. Very resourceful and clever. Why, I remember once, she-" Uriel paused at the sound of faint laughter beside of her. She studied Sabrina's face a long moment. The Ebon Sai was laughing at her.

"I'm laughing because of the way you positively beam when you speak about her." Sabrina smiled. It was a small smile, but it was nonetheless a spectacle.


	10. White City Down

Without knocking, Lord Vion opened the door to his private study, gratified to see that it was mildly dim in there as well as out in the halls.

Behind the door, Phoenix jerked her head up, watching with wide eyes for a moment, her fist gripped tightly around the hilt of a sword. He'd never seen her with that sword before. Must be a gift from an admirer, he thought. When her big red eyes finally took him in, her only reaction was to relax her shoulders and flip her braid back over them.

The room had only one window. The large, ornate desk covered with papers and books of every kind, was nestled into the dead center of the room. Even though it wasn't a huge desk, it took up a good portion of the room.

"It's about time you visited me, young one." He drawled lowly, seemingly a whisper.

"The Horsemen are here. Uriel told me to stay here." She said. Her voice came out so musically, he thought.

"I know, Phoenix. I simply came to deliver you to Uriel. I think everything is safe, for now." Vion said, trying to sound apologetic so not to anger her. With his left hand, he raked back his slick brown hair. He rubbed his neck in an awkward manner.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "All right then."

She had shown almost no fear at having a man simply walk into an empty room with her without knocking, even though she knew almost everybody.

Vion stared at her hair. It looked magnificent in a braid, he thought. He found its disorder alluring. It was a suggestion of how hard she must've been working earlier that day. Something to do, as she would say, anything to do to keep from going crazy in this boring city, especially when locked up in a boring library all day. On his desk, he noticed a few of her sketched portraits. He recognized a few. Uriel, Olivia, Ezekiel, and the other younger child she was often seen with. Her name escaped him at the moment, but he remembered she had pink eyes.

No other angel in all of Creation had pink eyes like hers, but in Vion's personal opinion, cinnamon red was much more attractive than champagne pink.

Phoenix's body was shapely and firm, with long legs and a deliciously flat chest. His breath slightly quickened at the thought of seeing her in a scribes robes. He would see it, and he almost couldn't wait.

The anticipation amplified his excitement. Unlike any other man, he was in no rush to begin. Once it began, it would be over all too quickly. He could never stop once it began. He would relish all of her little details, so that he could capture them all in his memory forever.

He was determined to count every freckle on her young, untouched body.

She was more than handsome, he decided.

She was a creature who possessed features that would make most men's imaginations ignite with obsessive and provocative images of her and made them want to try again and again to have her. The secluded look in her eyes told him that she didn't know this. Those features, though, no matter how gracefully haunting and sweetly innocent, had an acidic edge to her, a misery that betrayed her true character. No doubt that every other man in the White City saw both the pretty face and the fire in her belly. That's how he found her.

When Phoenix first arrived at the White City a few months ago, he knew not of her existence, if anything, her importance, but once he had received word that a wounded human, a young woman, he knew he had to confirm it.

"There is something you must do first, I'm afraid."

:What's that?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"We would like you to disguise yourself as a scribe, in case the Horsemen are still here. That way, they will pay you no mind, should they happen to see you."

Phoenix's face heated. The sprinkling of freckles at the top of her cheeks and across the bridge of her delicate nose nearly vanished. With her cinnamon eyes, she stabbed the angelic lord to death. She shot up from her seat and shook an armor backed glove at him. Her eyes hardened to an iron resolve.

"I have to do what?! No way! I already told you mutton-heads I'm not runnin' around in one of 'em dresses! Uriel can come to me!" she spat.

"_They are not __dresses__! They are robes!"_ Phoenix heard Azreal shouting in her mind.

"Phoenix, you know if she could, she would." Vion started, making his voice as affectionate as he could. He sought to smooth away her little ripples of displeasure. "Now, being the rugged young woman you are, you'll be the first to say a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do. I've taken the liberty of selecting a few articles of clothing for you, so to fit your standards." He smiled. "I know you love color, not anything too boring or dull." He nodded over to a shelf beside the door. He had planned this moment for a long time, indeed.

"You'll be safe here in the White City." he pulled a small crystal out of the pocket of his elegant, white robes and set it on his desk, turning it about with his fingers. "Harm will not catch a glimpse of you here.

"Thanks." She said, although her tone carried no warmth, but her discomfort, at least, had been eased.

With a smile, Vion made to leave, opening the door behind him.

"Good. Come on out when you're dressed. I'll walk with you."

* * *

><p>Pantera peered her head past the door frame, looking at Uriel in the room with all of the strangers. Her ears twitched and she made a quiet trilling sound, asking for entrance. Uriel waved an arm at her, mentioning her over. Of course, Pantera watched the four huge people in the room, especially the pale woman. Something about her really scared Pantera, and she didn't want Uriel anywhere near her. Crawling over, she hooked a claw onto her leather sleeve, pulling her arm a little towards her, but Uriel didn't move.<p>

Pantera wanted Uriel out of this room. She wanted her away from the pale woman. Pantera whimpered. Uriel misunderstood and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. Knowing there wasn't much she could do, Pantera decided to just sit there with Uriel and keep her company. If something were to happen, she could simply bite and run. She remembered when she was a tiefling, that her mamma always warned her about outsiders and strangers. Her mamma told her how deadly her bite could be and that she needed to protect herself one day. She missed her pack, now that she thought about it.

She crawled behind Uriel's legs and sat behind them, purring when Uriel scratched her ears. It made her a little sleepy. Uriel and the pale woman exchanged words that Pantera didn't understand, but she was no less protective of the angel. When the pale woman reached out to touch Uriel's arm, Pantera's rattling hiss filled the room quickly and loudly. Uriel constantly told Pantera to stop, but she didn't understand it.

In the middle of a conversation between Uriel, the pale woman, and the tall grey man, something happen outside of the spire. It made Pantera jump. Sounds only she could hear made her hiss and whine with fear. The pale woman shot up from her seat and rushed over to the window on the far side of the room. Her black outfit floated behind her like a wave of pitch black sea. Yelling something indistinct, she pointed to the four strangers, sending them off. Pantera squealed when Uriel scooped her up. When she was raised high enough, Pantera could see the normally calm skies of Heaven ignite with flames.

Something terrible was happening.

Phoenix itched her arm through the sea-green laced sleeves. The robes Lord Vion had given her itched. Bad. She fidgeted at the button-up bodice and grumbled under her breath. Indeed, it was a pretty set of robes, but it would be much more suitable on somebody else. Anybody else, so she thought.

With one arm on her shoulder, the other at the center of her back, Vion led her down the expansive and arnate hallways, coming to a stop every now and then to peek past corners or to check in open doors. The way he did so made him look genuinely concerned about her safety.

But why her? Go on and worry about somebody else, she screamed in her mind. She just wanted to be alone. If she had to be accompanied, however, she preferred Olivia, or Ezekiel, or Ivory. Just not Lord Vion. It was nothing personal, but he just really, really, _really_ creeped her out.

Jumping nearly out of her skin, Phoenix heard a thunderous crash outside, followed by the sounds of splintering wood, marble, and screaming. She bolted over to the window, and with Vion on her heels, she saw something that made her heart nearly leap into her throat.

Demons were coming into the White City.

* * *

><p>Ivory clutched a hand over her thundering heart. Even with the acrid smoke burning her eyes, she had to force herself to blink as she stood, transfixed, watching the horrors in the city, and in the square below. She quaked like a leaf on a twig.<p>

The noise was deafening. Things had gone from quiet and peaceful, to chaotic in a matter of mere seconds. The demonic invaders screamed as they charged ahead, swinging axes, hammers, and swords of every kind. Steel clashed and rang. The air hissed with arrows. Griffins shrieked in panic. Balls of black flame wailed from the distance and exploded through towers and buildings. The grisly demons blew shrill horns and bellowed like beasts as they poured into the streets, their impossible numbers darkened the streets in a horrendous flood.

the shrill screams and battle cries of her fellow angels pierced through it all as everyone was slaughtered before her eyes.

Hot wind carried the smells of her burning city, oil, flesh, and cloth, but laced through it all, in every breath she took, was the gut-wrenching stench of blood.

It was happening, just as the prophecies said it would. Ivory had laughed at them when Azreal showed them to her. Never would she had thought that such a thing would be possible; that a garrison of that size would pour into the White City and burn it to the ground. The thought of how short a time it was until those events came to be, her legs nearly gave way. She didn't think she would ever be able to laugh again as long as she lived.

This day, as the scripture had said it would, the White City had fallen.

Ivory stared as a demon attacked a man who just wouldn't seem to die- hacking him across the neck with his claws, groping him in the gut, and flailing him across his head. It reminded her of someone clubbing a steel rod into the ground- _thunk, thunk, thunk._

The man twitched one last time as his skull gave way with a sickening crack.

Ivory put trembling fingers over her mouth as she felt the contents of her stomach lurch into the back of her throat. She swallowed it back down and gasped for air.

Dear Creator, it was happening. She wished so much that she were dreaming; that none of this was really happening and that it was all a nightmare. She knew, though, that it was all too real.

With a gasp, she leaned out the little window when a band of demons came running foreword with a long, heavy-looking weapon Ivory had never seen before. The demons disappeared beneath the overhang below. She felt the building vertebrate with a dull thud. Angels in the lower room screamed and shouted. Another thud. And another, followed by the splintering sounds of cracking granite and broken marble tumbling to the floor.

The demons were entering the Imundii Spire.

Ivory clutched her robes over her heart in both hands as she heard the slaughter begin anew downstairs. She shuddered uncontrollably, wanting to cry. They would soon come up the stairs and find her. The Creator only knows what they will do to her. They would kill her, too, just as they did everybody else.

But she wanted to live. She was so young, only about a century old, she didn't want to die just yet. She didn't want to be butchered like the rest of her people out on the streets. She wished with all her heart that she could fly away, but her wings didn't work.

She squealed with a cry when she heard the doors behind her crash open. She fell to her knees and covered her head with her arms. Tears streamed from her face as she shrieked and sobbed.

She felt a pair of large hands take her by her shoulders and lifting her to stand. A strong arm quickly wrapped around her waist and pulled her into a run. She didn't want to open her eyes, didn't want to face the creature who had her now.

But she did anyway, and she didn't see a demon.

It was a man. A young man, but tall, and muscular. He had a silver ring through his left nostril, and the most terrifying eyes she had ever seen. The white of his eye were black and his iris was a bright and somber, if not glowing, red. His pupils looked normal, but the color scheme was still scary. He looked a bit familiar. With a startled gasp, she realized he looked like the eldest Horseman, Death.

* * *

><p>Same height and build as Death, and with a handsome cast of foreign features, he cut a striking figure. His tumbledown black hair made his sickly pale face look all the more better. Ivory couldn't help but stare at the flesh-and-blood twist of Death himself. He was handsome. <em>Very<em> handsome. The look in his eyes as he swept the carnage in the hallways told her that he knew that.

The man gestured to the area around them. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"he asked, shooting glances all over the corridor before leading her down another, seeming to avoid the demons as much as he could.

Dear Creator, he even sounded like Death.

At last, his red-eyed gaze settled on Ivory. She staggered in his hold, trying to make her legs move against her terror. "N-no. I'm alright, but-"

"Good. There's no time to waste. I have to get you out of here, now." There was no timidity in his voice when he held her by her shoulders. His hands looked so big on her, she was worried he might accidently crush her.

"Don't worry, not too many angels were killed. Only about a couple thousand."

A couple thousand angels, all dead. Ivory's stomach roiled. She looked up at him again with a frown. He was smiling. Although it was a very handsome smile, it still hurt her to think that after all of this, he could tell her that news and smile. Then again, she thought, he could just be being polite as to not frighten her.

"Where are you taking me, uhh-"  
>"Atrocor," he said, slipping his arm back around her waist and breaking into a run. "My name's Atrocor. It's a human name. Latin, for Blackheart." He smiled out of the corner of his mouth; an arrogant grin.<p>

"Alright, Atrocor, where are you taking me?" Ivory stuttered, flinching when he held her hip tightly as she slipped.

Atrocor cursed obscenely, jerking her behind him when he passed a corner for a brief moment. "I am taking you somewhere safe. That's all that should concern you."

Her resolve to trust in Atrocor weakened.

Despite his seeming kindness in saving her up in the Spire, he frightened her. A man who looked and spoke so much like Death scared her.

"Ivory," he started in a hushed tone. "I'm going to get you out of here, but the magic I use isn't for angelic eyes. It will kill you. I'm going to have to blind you."

"Why? Why will the magic kill me?"

"Just truct me. This is Necromancy on a whole 'nother level. It's dangerous for celestial eyes."

"But if I can't see…" Her words trailed off in the grip of his gaze.

"Ivory, trust me. You don't want to see what's going on in that hall anyway."

He was right. In the great hall packed with demonic invaders, and among the cries and shouts of numerous Hellguard dying, she could hear women being raped. She could feel vomit welling up in her throat. She could hear many young women wail in terror as the brutes held them down. Ivory felt her eyes water.

"You think you'll be able to hide, but you won't. They will search this entire city, and when they're finished, they'll burn it to the ground." He forced her to face him. "I'm sorry, Ivory, but the White City is lost."

Her pink eyes dripped with tears. "But i… I could… I'm afraid of going with you… I don't want to die."

"But this is what will happen to you, should you choose to stay. Ivory, you're a beautiful young angel. Believe me, I know beauty when I see it; I see it every time I pass my reflection, but that's not the point." He pointed down the hall with his chin. "You don't want to experience what those other angels have. You know you don't. Please, believe me when I say you're more important than you realize."

"Can't… can't you do anything to help them?"

"No," Atrocor whispered. "I can only help you, but I'm not going to waste precious time doing so unless you're worth saving. The dead here died a quick death. Terrible as it is, it was quick. However, vast numbers of people, a thousand times as many people here in the White City, are about to die horrible, suffering, lingering deaths. I can't help these people, but I can try to help those others. Is freedom worth having, worth living, if I don't try?

"It's time to decide if you'll help; if your life is worth living, worth the Creator's gift of your soul."

Visions of what was happening to her whole city flashed chaotically through her mind. She felt like she was already dead. If she may have a chance to live again, to help others rather than sink into the background, she had to take it. This was her only chance to live again, and she knew it.

She wiped tears from her eyes. "I will help. I swear on my soul, I will do as you say, if it means a chance to save others from a fate like this."

"Even if what I ask terrifies you? Even if you fear you will die?"

"Yes."

His handsome smile made her heart lift. Surprisingly, he drew her to him and gave her a comforting hug. She had never been comforted with a hug, only delivered them, once, to Phoenix. It made her weep.

Atrocor rubbed her wavy hair on the back of her head. She felt a warm sensation of succor. Her terror eased. She now had the determination to stop the demons who did this. Her mind filled with hope that she might do something important that will help others to be spared from this horrible threat.

Atrocor met her eyes with a boyish grin. "Now, we must go. The longer we wait, the greater the danger is upon you."

Ivory nodded. "I'm ready."

"All right," he cupped a big hand over her cheek. "Now, look into my eyes, and don't look away until I let go of you, understand?"

"If you say so, Atrocor. I will do as you say."

Standing there in the dim light, he gave her a warm smile. For such a pale, dark, intimidating man, he was awfully handsome.

"I've a very good feeling you'll do well." He said.

* * *

><p>Phoenix grunted as she was pushed onto her back. Towering over her, the angelic lord held a brutally curved knife in his fist. His knuckles were white. His chest heaved with ire. He stared down at Phoenix with hungry eyes and reached down, grabbing a fistful of her braid.<p>

"It's about damn time Abrigor sent the Shadow Legions here, I was beginning to get impatient." He snarled between clenched teeth. His grin terrified Phoenix.

She brought a boot up between his legs. When he cried out, she clawed at his eye, catching flesh and dragging her nails across his skin.

Vion grappled with Phoenix, and realizing she was much stronger than he had anticipated, he punched her in the ribs. She could feel bones crack inside of her. She screamed with the pain. Vion snatched the collar of her bodice as she fell.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time, Phoenix." He said as he backhanded her across the jaw.

Phoenix felt the buttons of the bodice pop off as he ripped it open. She weakly lifted her arms to fight him off, but with sickening brutality, he snapped her arms when she tried to punch him.

Phoenix, dazed and slow, cried out as Vion spun her to the ground, face first into a pool of blood. She could barely make out Andell's dead eyes staring back at her. They were a watery blur. He had tried to kill Vion, but failed in his attempt. She screamed when she felt Vion's hands pawing at her between her thighs.

Suddenly, something ripped the angel off of her, and she heard Vion cry out and curse, followed by a resounding crack. With a thud, Vion's headless corpse fell to a heap across the room, squirting blood like a fountain. Phoenix felt grisly, gnarly hands pick her up beneath her arms and legs. Her entire body sang with pain. She felt more hurt than she ever had in her life. She felt raped.

Blinking the tears from her eyes, she realized with profound misery that she was being carried out by a demon. She wanted to die. Not that again, she thought, crying silently in his hold, no more demons, please.

With one arm, the monstrous thing carried her, with the other; he grabbed a fellow demon's skull in his fist, crushing it like it was nothing. Around her, noise and destruction sounded like it was coming from further away, or like she was listening to it all underwater. The demon's glowing blue eyes looked like tracer lights in a haze of red and orange and black fog. Her nostrils filled with the stench of blood.

She was lucky, now that she considered things. Vion would have done everything imaginable to her had this demon not come along. He killed Vion, saved her, and killed more demons than she bothered to count while trying to escape with her out of the city. Then again, he might be like Vion, trying to keep her to himself. She could never fight him off, though. She was broken and hurting all over.

Blackness closed in all around her. The sword Azreal had given her poked her in her side painfully. She could feel the anger of the blade stirring there with her. She wanted so badly to call forth the fury, just to keep her awake, but she was so weak. She couldn't keep her eyes open any more.

With one final breath, Phoenix was consumed by darkness.

* * *

><p>"People of the White City," The Master of shadows shouted over the cacophonous screams and crashes commencing throughout the chaotic square. "witness what happens when you defy us! The Kingdom of Hell stands not for your self-righteous attempts to frame us for the destruction of Earth! You all shall pay the price for our needless sacrifice!"<p>

With a wave of Abrigor's hand, a pair of hulking demons brought forth a bloody and beaten angel from the crowd of hellish monsters and dropped him to the pavement.

Ezekiel coughed blood and gasped desperately for a breath. Blood pumped and spurted from the nodes in his back where his wings used to be.

He felt genuinely foolish. He had heard the cries of his Hellguard brethren and went to try to save them, and ended up being overpowered by the garrison he was being thrown around by now. They were brutes; beating him near senseless, and if things couldn't get any worse, they tore his wings right out of him.

Right now, every nerve in his body seared with pain. He lost track of how much longer they had been beating him.

On his hands and knees, he choked on his own blood. Suddenly, a woman's black leather boots were right in front of his face. She had one hand on her curvaceous hip, a smile on her thin, orange lips. Her smile reminded him of a snake. Her ageless almond eyes glowed down on his, spiraling with sickening evil.

Ezekiel collapsed to the ground, trying to breathe, but he couldn't without sucking up bloody dirt. He saw in the distance, Phoenix being carried off by a huge Legion Soldier, her arm dangling crazily beside of her. His blood boiled, but there was nothing he could do.

The demoness put the heel of her boot on his shoulder and sneered at him. She reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing his amethyst eyes to stare at her emerald ones. She looked like a little, orange Lilith.

"You, broken one, will serve as a perfect example to those who oppose me." She hissed, wetting her lips with her black tongue.

With another flick of her wrist, a demon shuffled to her with a dark urn in his huge hands. Abrigor took her hand from her hip and quickly shoved it into the urn; her thin slit pupils dilated with the pain of it. A sprawling red and black ooze crawled up her arm to her elbow. She strained to keep it there.

"Flip him over. Their grace come from the heart." She ordered through clenched teeth.

Ezekiel felt limp as the demons flipped him onto his back. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, but nothing could've prepared him for it. The moment she pressed her palm onto his chest, he felt like every rib had popped and cracked with razor-sharp pain. Her claws dug into him. He couldn't do anything but scream. Slowly, he felt his life force draining away. He wished he would die sooner, to end the pain. His screams echoed to the square around him. Helpless angels watched while they were being slaughtered.

When at last she pulled away, there was an impact in the air around him. A thunderous vibration, but no sound. Those angels still alive convulsed with the sudden pain of the Blood Bond breaking. Ezekiel gulped for air like a fish out of water. His lungs burned for air. His ribs were, in fact, broken.

Through watery eyes, he could see that her hand and part of her arm now glowed a pale gold. Her eyes were wide with awe. She threw the glowing fist into the air with an ear-piercing screech.

"IT WORKED!" She screamed in triumph.

An uproar started all around him. With horror, Ezekiel realized he couldn't feel his celestial energy anymore. That feeling in the pit of his stomach he had known his entire life was no longer there.

"Shall I kill him, Master Abrigor?" a young demoness asked behind her.

Abrigor cackled and licked her upper lip. "No. he's human now. Human's don't live too long."

Those words hit Ezekiel like a ton of bricks. He had failed his city. He had failed the Hellguard. He had failed Phoenix, his beloved friend; his sister by bond.

With nothing to do, no way to move, the former angel decided maybe it was better for him to simply die there.

* * *

><p>Holding his hand as she walked was he only connection to the world. She couldn't see the slaughter. She couldn't hear the screams. She could smell the blood, though. She knew Atrocor was using the dangerous necromantic magic all around her.<p>

In her silent world, Ivory prayed as she walked, prayed that the Creator would keep her safe and the souls who had died here this day. For those who still lived, she prayed for their strength. She prayed for Phoenix, most of all.

Atrocor guided her around rubble and around the heat of fires. It seemed they walked for hours through the ruins of the vast city.

Sometimes, they stopped, and she lost the connection to his hand as she stood still and alone in her silent world. She couldn't see, nor hear, so she didn't know the exact reason for the stop, but she suspected that Atrocor was using more of the dangerous magic to fight their way out. Her heart raced for the thought of what unseen danger Atrocor warded. But as always, the stop ended by an arm around her waist, pulling her into a run.

She felt confident in his care, and comfort, too.

Her hips ached from walking and running and her weary feet throbbed. He at last placed both hands on her shoulders, turned her, and helped her to sit. She felt cool grass beneath her.

Her vision suddenly returned, as did her hearing.

Rolling green hills spread away before her. She looked and saw only vast valleys. There were no people anywhere. The White City nowhere to be seen. In fact, this wasn't the angel's realm at all.

"Safe at last." Atrocor said, laughing heartily. "Welcome, dear Ivory, to the Forge Lands." He gave her that handsome grin and wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Ivory dared to feel the sweet relief, not only at having escaped the slaughter, but at having escaped her old life.

The terror had burned so deep into her soul that she felt as if she had be recast in a furnace of fear, and come out a shiny new self, hardened for the terrors that may lay ahead.

With a start, she noticed a pair of knees beside her head. Her head rose up the hem of the dark ruffled dress that covered them. Her gaze settled on the snow-white hands clasped politely in her lap. A black leather bodice covered an exquisite midriff and a perfectly shapely form. A black cowled cloak was draped elegantly over her shoulders and her head was crowned with the most glorious, pitch-black ringlet curls she had ever seen. Her face was even more beautiful. She looked almost exactly like the Ebon Sai, yet she looked a lot like Atrocor. Her eyes however, were a sky blue, rather than Atrocor's red.

"Ivory, my dear," Atrocor started, walking over to the young lady and placing his hands on her shoulders. "This is my baby sister, Zodiac."

"Only by a minute…" zodiac grumbled. Her voice was heavenly, but raspy and stricken, too.

Twins. They were identical twins. And they were both beautiful

"Where is Karma?" Atrocor asked, looking around.

Zodiac pointed with her chin, blinking absently to the East. "She had a vision and wandered off that way. She'll come back. Trickster or not, she's got her reasons for wanting to be alone. That there is the Nephilim in her."


	11. The Frostbane

**Author's note: Not as long a chapter as I had hoped, but, here ya'll go!**

* * *

><p>The first thing Phoenix felt was cold. Very cold. It was bright, but her eyes were closed. Phoenix knew she wasn't dead. She was in the wrong place. How she knew, she would never be able to tell, she just knew she wasn't dead.<p>

Sliding up, she realized her arms were okay. She knew they had been broken, though. Inhaling through her nose, she smelled cold, sharp air, and she thought for a moment that she smelled peppermint. She sneezed when she sucked up cold, wet flakes of snow.

Somehow, she was out of her body. She had memory and awareness, but her shape or form was foreign to her. It wasn't really her. It looked enough like her, but when she looked, she knew it wasn't. She was like a disembodied spirit; here, she was dead, yet alive.

Rolling while hills stretched before her. The wind blew flurries of snow into her face. She looked up and saw a sky so blue, it seemed as though she were looking up into an ocean. There was no sun, but it was bright. Phoenix didn't have to squint against the whiteness of the snow. In the sky, there looked to be starts, shimmering and twinkling brightly. Two huge moons laid claim to the eastern sky, one of which smaller than the other.

It was beautiful.

But why was she here? Heaven was being destroyed, angels were being slaughtered like livestock, and she was here, in a glorious place that didn't seem to exist, but did.

Phoenix started when she heard a faint trudging through the snow behind her. Spinning around, she faced with wide eyes, not a strange looking creature, but an attractive, older woman who looked to have been waiting for her.

This woman was so beautiful, even more so than any other woman she had ever seen in the whole of her life; more so than Olivia. Her white hair was long and flowing, longer than any other woman's hair. It fell to her knees, almost. Her features were pale and fair; mature and youthful in appearance. She had an air of grace and gentleness about her that made her seem like an angel, but not any kind of angel Phoenix was so familiar with.

Her glowing lilac eyes were round and large, making the starts above seem not to shine. Her smile was even more so. It seemed to make the cold world a much warmer place.

"You really are the most troublesome and stubborn creature the Creator ever blew breath into, you know that, sister?" she asked.

The way her breath carried those words was like God himself was speaking to her.

"Scout, you don't know who I am, but don't fret; I am a friend." She smiled again. "Right now, your body is broken and battered. I'm truly sorry for what you had to go through, Phoenix. I genuinely am, but you're going to be alright."

She came closer and put her hands on Phoenix's shoulders, marveling at her strength and beauty. She had long, pretty fingers. Phoenix, with surprise, realized that she had small horns poking out behind her thick, snow-white hair.

"Wha-wait, who, even- who are you?" Phoenix fumbled over her words like a fool. She could feel her ears reddening.

"I am your HeartStone sister," she said as she tapped the fiery red gem between Phoenix's breasts. "I am Penumbra, The Frostbane's Exalted Nephilim."

Phoenix stared dumbly as the woman opened her maroon cloak and unbuttoned the white overcoat she wore and tapped an icy-blue, oval shaped jewel between her exposed cleavage. She had a silver necklace there, too; embellished with light purple and pale blue gemstones.

"What does that mean?" Phoenix asked, looking from Penumbra's HeartStone to her own, also shaped like an oval. "What does any of this mean?"

Penumbra put an arm around her shoulder and walked with her through the ankle-deep snow.

"It means you're one of us. You, too, are Exalted. You have very powerful gifts like me, my brethren, Eris, and your Sabrina."

Phoenix snapped her head toward the Nephilim woman. "Sabrina has a rock on her chest too?!" She asked, fearing that the child had to go through the same pain that Phoenix had to endure when she first received her HeartStone.

"Well, yes and no. She has a Stone, but not a HeartStone. She has a MindStone. It's much more powerful than ours, because it is powered by her knowledge and wisdom." Penumbra explained. "Depending on the powers of our patrons, our Stones are in different places. You and me, our powers come from our hearts, so our Stones are over our hearts.

"Now, beings like Eris will have their Stones in some odd places. Since she has the ability to lift the logic and sensibility from any situation, her Stones are on her arms."

"You've seen Eris before?" Phoenix asked.

"Yes. I knew her when I was much younger. Believe it or not, she used to be an angel." She chuckled a bit upon seeing Phoenix's shocked expression. "She was a messenger of Heaven. She wasn't always so mad; so deranged and out of sorts. Once, she was just Eris." She said, holding the necklace between two fingers as she walked, still holding Phoenix's shoulder with her other arm.

"Becoming Exalted is different for almost everyone. Some people are born to it; others are blessed when they are very young. The unfortunate ones, like Eris, were taken too late in life. Eris became Exalted when she was just coming out of adolescence. That's very late for the blessing, and in her case it drove her mad with her power. She isn't evil though. She has a good heart, just not a very good mind."

Phoenix digested all of the new information slowly. She was glad that her boots were high enough that hiking through the snow in her robes didn't expose her calves to the cold snow. She found herself hugging her arms. Penumbra took her heavy maroon cloak and gently settled it on Phoenix's shoulders. It shut out the bitterly cold wind.

"Thanks." Phoenix uttered. She found comfort in the warmth of Penumbra's cloak.

Penumbra shrugged. "The cold never bothered me anyway."

Phoenix couldn't believe how Penumbra could walk through this cold in a dress so thin. Beneath the white and gold overcoat, she wore a simple pale blue gown, cut in a circle at the collar. The sleeves of the dress were so sheer, she might as well have been sleeveless. It was so simple a dress; so plain. So perfect.

"Why do I have these gifts?" Phoenix asked. "Azreal said I was supposed to play a huge part in a coming war, but I'm just a kid. I can't fight in a war. Hell, I can't even defend myself half of the time." She said, brows knitting together in anguished frustration.

Penumbra gave a small smile at Azreal's mention. Phoenix noticed it; the way her eyes suddenly softened, her body swayed much more easily when she walked, and she looked for a moment like she was remembering an old friend.

"You have to learn to use these gifts. Luckily, the Ebon Sai is the only one close enough in power to you, Phoenix, to teach you how to control your gift. You may not know how to manage or call forth that magic for a while, but trust in me; you will master it soon enough. Thus, you will finally know peace."

For a moment, Phoenix understood that she was given a job, and she was going to have to play a part in getting the job done. Maybe she would know peace after she did what needed to be done. Maybe if she played her role, she would survive and help others to survive too. She didn't believe she had what it took to save people's lives, but that didn't matter. All she had to do was play her role.

She went to tell penumbra as much, but when she turned to face the Nephilim woman, she was gone. Her arms were no longer around her shoulders. Again, she felt alone in this beautiful world.

* * *

><p>When the demon brought the human into the glow of the firelight, War had to remind himself to draw a breath. He hardly noticed the condition of the poor kid. He stood mute for a moment, gazing at her large cinnamon eyes, curvaceous pink lips, and her thick mane of blonde hair, small wisps of it framing her glowing, freckled face.<p>

The stoic frown never faltered, however, he didn't remember the human looking like this, possessing such captivating features. He remembered her as oddly ostentatious, with unusual colored garments, unlike the simple robes she wore now, which brought out the contours of her form.

Distant voices rang all around Phoenix's head. She thought for a moment that she was listening to them all underwater.

Everything was a blur of light and shadows. She felt that she was being laid on a slab of cold stone, somewhere. Her limbs throbbed and ached with miserable pain. When her broken arms touched the stone, she involuntarily cried out in pain.

"Alya, is there someone here that can heal her?" a smoky voice asked. Dear God, it was beautiful. Phoenix wished she could make out the face behind that voice.

"Aye, we can heal her. But it won't be easy, Ebon Sai." Another woman's voice replied. "Karn! Find Mirage! Hurry, now! Make haste!"

Now, Phoenix needed someone to listen. As a white figure leaned closer, her hand sliding between her throbbing legs, Phoenix managed to clutch the blackness around her breasts. She saw that her own arm was purple and swollen.

"P-Pen…Penum-" Phoenix's voice trailed off with an agonizing moan.

Blue eyes turned to Phoenix. "Scout, you're going to be okay." A ringlet of black hair slipped forward over her shoulder as she tried to keep the convulsing child still. "It's alright, Scout. It's me, it's Sabrina. I'm here, calm down. I'm not going anywhere. Lie still, please."

As sweet a voice it was, it was panicked and sounded on the verge of tears. Phoenix began to see more clearly now and realized that it was Sabrina. Not the child she knew and loved, but a beautiful, older woman.

"_How long was I gone?!"_ Phoenix screamed in her mind.

That didn't matter now. She was elated to see those eyes again. They glistened with tears, but Sabrina's grey lips smiled at her, and Phoenix missed that smile more than anything. That tight-lipped smile she gave only to her. Despite how much she missed that smile, Phoenix could see the heartache behind those eyes.

Phoenix felt strong hands around her ankles. They pulled her legs apart. It took everything she had to lift her head up. For the life of her, it was such an effort.

She saw an older woman hovering over her. Her white bangs fell all around her face, longer than the rest of her dark brown hair. She rose back up again and put a hand on Phoenix's chest. Her hair brushed a bit past her ears, but nothing else. Some grey wisps dappled her brown hair, but Phoenix couldn't really tell. Her eyes were a murky grey, as were her flaxen, bone-embroidered robes.

Phoenix opened her mouth, trying to speak, but she couldn't seem to get enough air. Each breath was a struggle that produced a wet rattle rather than an actual gasp. She couldn't die now. Not yet. Tears stung her eyes.

A cold hand pressed her head back down. A bony hand. Phoenix now stared up at a menacingly pale man, whom Sabrina addressed as Death.

Phoenix gasped in fear. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. If Death was here, and he was one of the Four Horsemen that Olivia and Uriel told her about, that meant War was here, also. Her old nemesis.

Death pointed to her legs. "Those bruises," he started. His voice had a gravely, acidic venom to it. It frightened Phoenix even more. "Look at them."

Sabrina appraised her thighs for a moment. "What about them?"  
>"Someone was trying to force her legs open."<p>

There was a long silence. All activity swarming around the injured human seemed to suddenly pause. Suddenly, Phoenix felt the tingling probe of magic flow in through her broken arms and spread to her ribs and down into her legs. It was painful magic that made her ears hum. She recognized the unique feel of this magic: Azreal used it to heal her in the past.

Sabrina stared at Death in wide-eyed fury. The Horseman could see the livid rage behind her eyes. It was an unfathomable anger; on par with War it seemed.

Sabrina had said that she loved Scout- this handsome little thing laying all broken and battered before them all- and the thought of someone trying to rape a child she held so dear ignited the Ebon Sai's wrath to a blood-boiling maximum.

And why wouldn't it, Death thought. He had seen and done many things that could be deemed as immoral, from genocide to the creation of the Grand Abominations, but he drew the line at rape. Personally, he thought it as sick an act as necrophilia. Thinking about it being done to a child, though, almost made him nauseous.

Sabrina spun around and faced the hulking demon standing opposite of the Maker's Forge. He stood quietly, studying the ground at his feet alongside a much smaller demoness.

"Do you know who is responsible for this?" She snapped, the demon jumping nearly out of his skin.

"Yes, Ebon Sai." he started, glowing blue eyes coming afraid to hers. "The angels here may know him as Vion." He uttered.

Phoenix heard a ragged scream from another party. She knew that scream belonged to Uriel.

"What is your name, demon?" Sabrina asked.

"Zephyr, Ebon Sai."

"And who is the demon with you?"  
>"This is my sister, Lima. She was with me when I retrieved Phoenix, she was the one to tell me she had heard rumor of a human alive on Earth." He nervously shifted his weight to his other foot. "I was also told that it could be the fabled Phoenix Sai. I saw the explosion myself, from Sophia. I knew she was real. When word spread of the Phoenix Sai residing in the White City, a few demons were aware that she could be threatened by opposing forces to the ancient one's will." He paused and glanced over at the Horsemen, all standing together in a state of stupor. "I was commanded to find the Phoenix Sai and keep her safe from the Horsemen."<p>

There was no more time to delay in what she had to do. Penumbra had given her a message, and if what Uriel told her about the Horsemen was true, than those four poor bastards were convinced that every last one of their beloved kin was dead. She had to let them know otherwise, and not even death could stop her from doing that.

With all of her effort, Phoenix hurled herself upward and grabbed Death's violet scarf at his collar. She pulled him close to her face, close so he could hear her message.

The only thing she could get out, though, was a single word.

"Penumbra." She whispered with all of her strength.

Death's eyes widened considerably. His amber eyes fixed with her cinnamon ones. He gripped her wrists and pulled her hands from him, staring in genuine shock.

"What did you just say?" he breathed.

"She speaks of delirium, old man. Now take your hands from her and get back! You're interrupting the spell!" The old maker hissed, pressing Phoenix back down onto her back.

Death faltered at the mention of the name. He hadn't heard that name in so long, it felt like icy water being poured on naked flesh. Her remembered Penumbra; his youngest and most enthusiastic sister.

Penumbra was a frail girl, as frail as a twig. She didn't have the strength and power that her Nephilim brethren had. War had become her protector, guardian, shielding her from situations that required more power than she could muster. She loved him for that.

One day, Death had been away for a short time. He and his brothers had been sent to Heaven to assist in hunting a Anubis outcast committing numerous murders of some young angelic girls just outside of the White City. Penumbra was to go, but War went in her place. Penumbra hated going on hunts such as these, hated seeing the looks in their eyes. Sometimes she would cry for days after. She never asked War to go in her stead, she wouldn't, but the look of relief on her face when War told her he would go was words enough. War disliked these missions too, but he was stronger, wiser, more reflective. War had always been able to place his head before his heart. As was Death.

On a trail on the outskirts of Ehronm, a now dead city thanks to the Nephilim, Death and his brothers heard soft whimpers in the brush at the side of the primitive road, moans of mortal pain. To their horror, they discovered Penumbra thrown there, discarded, lying face first into the snow.

"I… I was… c-coming to meet you… I w-wanted to… t-tell you…" Penumbra had said as Fury cradled the girl's head in her lap. "I can't… can't believe he… would d-do this to me… I…"

"Who?" That was the only time in Death's life he had ever heard Fury on the verge of tears.

"I scarred him brother… I scarred him good… you would… would have been proud of me…"

Fury's lower lip quivered. Her ghostly eyes were wet. As was War's. Fury smoothed Penumbra's bloody hair from her eyes.

"Who did this to you?" Death uttered, his raspy voice filled with hatred. It took him everything he had to keep from losing it.

"Absolom…" Penumbra whispered. Her chest made heaving movements. She was crying, and it was hurting her. In shock, Death touched Penumbra's head, comforted her, telling her she would be fine.

"Please Strife… pull my dress down for me…" Her voice sounded as if it were coming from a faraway place, weak and wet. "My arms don't work."

Past panic, Strife pointed out why. Penumbra's arm's had been brutally broken. They lay useless at her sides, bent in places they shouldn't be bent. Blood dripped from one ear. Strife pulled what was left of her blood stained dress over his sister, covering her as best as he could. Meanwhile, Death's head spun with the horror of what Absolom had done. The choking feeling in his throat wouldn't let the words come out. He strained to fight back his rage, fearful of further terrifying his little sister anymore. He knew he had to be strong for her this one last time; they all had to be strong. Penumbra's voice whispered their names, beckoning them closer.

"Absolom did this to me… He was here… He did this to me…"

"I know… I believe you…" Death said with all the tenderness he could gather. "Lie still, it will be all right. I will take you somewhere safe…" He knew it was a lie. She wouldn't be all right.

"Please brothers… sister…" she whispered. "Kill him… Stop our madness. I wish I were strong enough. Kill him for me…"

Anger boiled inside of Death; inside of all of them. It was the first time any of them had heard Penumbra wish to use her power to hurt someone; to kill someone. She had gone to the brink of feeling something she had never felt before or since; a terrible wrath, a force from deep within. With shaking fingers, Death stroked Penumbra's bloody and tear stained cheek.

"I will." Death promised.

Penumbra relaxed in Fury's arms. She sniffed a bit and blinked up at her brothers.

"Please, save yourselves… Don't let him get you. He enjoys it… He hurt me so much… and he enjoyed it… He laughed at me… said I was weak…"

Both War and Fury closed their eyes at the sight of their sister's pain. Fury rocked her in her arms and kissed her forehead. She too had started crying.

"Remember me brothers," Penumbra whispered. The stone between her breasts had stopped glowing completely. "Remember how much I loved you… All of you…"

Death, now past his flashback, had to leave. He felt he would be sick.

* * *

><p>"I don't feel right about this, Atrocor…" Karma warned, holding the heart-shaped purple fruit out at an arm's length. She sniffed it again and recoiled at the light-headed sensation it gave her. "I don't think this is safe…"<p>

Atrocor sat in a nook of roots at the base of the huge tree, reclining back with a smug grin on his face.

"Calm down, Karma. It's just a fruit. What harm can it possibly do?"

Ivory sat beside of him, curled protectively by his hip. He had picked her one of the strange fruits, too, and she was enjoying it. She told Karma how sweet it was, and suggested she at least try it, but the young Nephilim half-blood still refused. Zodiac said she wasn't hungry, and that was the end of it.

It was only until after Atrocor had eaten the small fruit down to the core that he started getting… weird.

"Yep," Karma said, fixing her arresting blue-and-green eyed gaze on her cousin. "I knew they couldn't be trusted. If I didn't know better, I'd say this arrogant bastard was higher than a kite."

"Karma, you're nine years old, watch that mouth or I'll give you a fat lip." Zodiac hissed.

With nothing more to say, Karma folded her arms over her chest and watched Atrocor in mock sympathy. He should've listened, she thought.


	12. A Safe Haven

**Author's notes: sorry 'bout the long wait. Fall break and no computer to type! well, I hope this is all to your likings!**

**-Thanks!**

* * *

><p>Uriel batted the raindrops from her lashes and pulled the cloak Pantera wore up over her ears. She wondered how the pup could sleep after the horrors that she had just witnessed. Uriel held Pantera closer to her the more she thought about it.<p>

She never could have imagined that after one invasion, the demons of Hell could have possibly taken the White City and destroy it. She felt like she had died that day. She wondered what became of Phoenix. She was there when the Bone Woman was healing Phoenix in the Maker's Forge, but she didn't get to see if she made it out of there alive. Uriel's heart ached for what that poor child went through. Phoenix had always told her that Lord Vion made her feel uncomfortable, but Uriel never thought much of it. She thought it must be Phoenix's uneasy temper that made her think he was out to get her.

How could she be so foolish? All Uriel wanted to do was find a way to have kept that from happening. How could he do that? He was always so noble, so honorable to his fellow angels. Even Aboddon recognized his noble character and respected him for it. And he was to do that; to a child, nevertheless. She was furious at her failure to see the danger before it was too late.

She was grateful, though, that the Ebon Sai had offered a safe place for the remaining angels to reside: the home world of the Ebon Sai herself. Uriel was still terrified to be there, even if it was such a beautiful place.

Azreal looked just as uncomfortable as she, but Uriel knew that he didn't fear the Ebon Sai as much as she did. The way the old man looked about the gloomy and wet forests as they followed Sabrina looked as if he had been here before, or recognized the sights. He looked like he didn't really want to be here. He had tried to persuade the Ebon Sai to let the angels hide away in Lostlight back at the Forge Lands, but the woman could not be swayed. She reminded him in about what happened in Heaven. She was awful sweet about it.

Pantera's ears twitched against Uriel's cheeks as the dark shape of the temple appeared out of the misty rain. Uriel knew the Ebon Sai had this palace protected; two of the Four Horsemen were posted outside of the temple. Fury's violet hair was hanging wetly at her back, some of it plastered to her white face. She and Strife averted Sabrina's eyes as she approached them, and ushered the angels inside of the temple.

Pantera shivered and sneezed in Uriel's hold. She ached to hold the little Shifter there, but after what she had just witnessed, she was too nervous to let her go. She knew the little thing wouldn't spook in this grand place. Pantera was tough, having once been a slave to a demon. Indeed, she had been through a lot for such a small pup.

In the misty darkness, the vast temple, its soaring walls of dark stone, its ramparts, towers, connecting passageways, and bridges all blended into the earthy darkness.

Uriel knew, somehow, that there were dangers to this world. This world could be safe, welcoming place, as long as one wasn't foolish enough to poke their nose into a place it didn't belong. There were places on this world that Uriel knew she would never wish to enter. Although a beautiful world, gloomy and melancholy in its serene grace, she felt it was as equally dangerous.

The world of the Ebon Sai, _Shaurna_ as it was called, was where the angels were ordered to hide out since the destruction of their beloved city.

Walking beside of Sabrina, Uriel used her sore arm to brush her disheveled hair from her eyes. "What became of the angels who couldn't pass through the shield like the rest of us?" she asked. "Your magic enabled some of the remaining angels to pass, but not those others. Those were not nameless faces, and I am concerned."

Sabrina's eyes carried no warmth, or remorse. "They are dead."

Uriel jerked to a halt. "What?! On what grounds?" she hissed a breath, before realizing just who she had spoken to.

"On the grounds that they had sworn an oath to darkness. The shield I placed around the teleportational laylines leading to this world was to inspect the minds of those who passed it. Those angels who couldn't pass were… infected, so to speak."

Uriel felt like she would vomit. She almost couldn't believe what she was hearing. She knew most of those angels personally. She had trained most of them herself. They were such bright, young figures. So ambitious and loyal to the Hellguard, as well as the White Army.

"I lied to them to convince them all that they were simply too strong or too powerful to enter the weak shield I had placed. They were a part of the cult that the demoness who stole Ezekiel's grace had formed. I can't say I am sorry for the loss, but you'll get over it eventually, dear one." Sabrina said, looking coldly down her nose at the path ahead, as if she had no emotional mettle at the things she had just said.

They passed through the huge portcullis onto the temple grounds. Once inside the massive outer walls, the rain flooded down in torrents. Inside of the walls, things felt more comfortable. Uriel listened as Azreal shook the rain from his long hair and took a deep breath of the spring-fresh air, filling his aching lungs with a foreign, soothing sent. Uriel exhaled just as agreeably.

The Ebon Sai led the crowd of angels across a stretch of gravel and stone to an arched opening in the wall that tunneled under part of the tunnel. As the thousands of angels passed through the long passageway, the lamps hanging from the ceilings in iron cased chandeliers lit the arched stones around them in a pale blue glow.

"Why are we going through here?" Uriel asked.

"I'm showing you the areas of the temple you angels all have access to. Where you will stay, where you will be allowed to venture, and so on. This is the way you all will enter and exit, should you decide to leave this temple."

Beyond the tunnel, almost every angel eyed the expansive gardens lush with gloomy flora. The gravel road ran beside the wall that held the main entrance to the temple.

Holding an arm out with fingers spread slightly, Sabrina opened the gates. Dozens of black granite steps, worn smooth and swayback over the millennia, led to a recessed entryway to the simple but heavy double doors into the temple proper. Azreal and Uriel followed close behind. Sabrina gave Azreal a lantern as he approached her. The anteroom swallowed the light into its vast space, only allowing the weak blue glow to hint at the columns and arches.

"What is that? A fountain?" Azreal asked in a low whisper as he heard what sounded like a storm drain.

"There aren't any… dragons in here, are there?" Uriel mumbled.

"Yes, it's a fountain, of sorts," Sabrina said, her voice echoing in the distance. "And yes, there are dragons in this temple, but not where you'll be staying, I promise. Here, give me that lantern, please." She said, mentioning Azreal over to her.

Sabrina nodded her thanks to the Angel of Death and strode over to one of the puzzle lamps on the wall to the left. She could go there without the aid of a lamp; she knew the place so well. She found the lamp's key and tilted its tall chimney foreword. She popped off the top of the iron gilded lantern and reached inside of it, pulling out a small blue orb, about the size of a grapefruit, and placed it in the chimney.

The key puzzle lamp took to light; a pale blue. With a succession of humming sounds, the rest of the lamps lit- hundreds of them- two at a time, in pairs, one to each side. Each lamp was simultaneously lit by another as the lamps around the huge room took to light by the key lamp. The light in the room grew significantly.

In a span of seconds, the anteroom was nearly as bright as day, bathed in the mellow blue light of all of the orbs. Uriel stood silently at the sight. She did, in fact, know this place from somewhere, but she wasn't sure where.

Hundreds of feet above, the dome-shaped glass roof was dark. It thundered with the sound of bullets of rain pelting its surface. Water spilled from a hole in the center of the dome and cascaded down into the scalloped bowl of the fountain below, in the center of the tiled floor. It brightened with white light, making an eye into the overhead storm. One could almost count the stepladders of lightning as it arched and sprawled into the sky like white-hot fingers.

Around the fountain, purple and black marble was wide enough and spaced just right to act as a bench. In the center of the huge pool of glowing blue waters was an image of a massive serpentine dragon. Pitch black onyx made up its long body and magnificent wings, and icy blue topaz made it's menacingly eerie eyes. For some reason, those eyes had always frightened Uriel. Icy blue. She could never piece together why those eyes worried her so much, she only knew they frightened her.

Sabrina swept an arm out to the expansive space around them. Uriel jumped.

"This place, all but the five spires and its libraries, I am giving to you, angels." Her sultry voice echoed loudly among the quiet angels, all staring in stupor at the place around them. "There are, however, some conditions.

"First, there are places in this world that even I dare not enter. Places of unspeakable dangers. I have no power to place boundaries up here, but I warn you: if you should choose to leave the safety of this place, step with caution. You are all children here, and you can only venture so far without getting yourselves lost in the backyard.

"Secondly, I have made it so that none of you angels can leave this world without my consent. You are all a hunted race, now. The Black Master, as well as the followers of her Court will hunt you like Cervidae. They will capture you, those of you who are thinking you could manage to escape their hold, and they will steal your Grace."

Sabrina paused upon hearing confused and shocked gasps from the crowd, putting a hand up in a plea for silence. "Know this: I tell you all these things because, despite what you may think, I care deeply for the Kingdom of Heaven, and it would displease me greatly if I had lost any more of you than what I already have."

Although she wore an emotionless face, her piercing blue eyes couldn't betray the warmth they carried. She genuinely cared about these angels, whether they believed it or not. She knew only a few of them in the crowd of thousands believed her when she said that she cared about them, but that was alright. As long as one angel believed, she was satisfied. She was surprised to find that of all the angels who believed in her care for the well-being of all of these angels, Uriel was the most earnest. She believed in Sabrina, and although still terrified by her, she shared her concern and care for her own people. That was good. She needed Uriel now. She needed her to be strong.

But, more than anything, she needed Uriel to remember.

With nothing more to be said, Sabrina led them all to an intersection with a hall of deep jade stone running down both sides. At places, the hall opened up to even more commodious halls lined with individual lofts. Beyond huge, black double doors in the largest outer room was a library.

"This library is accessible to you all, the prophecies from Heaven are to be placed here, Gatekeeper." Sabrina said, turning to the Angel of Death, who jumped like a squirrel dodging street traffic upon her mention of him. He was quick to recollect himself, though.

With a single nod of acknowledgement from Azreal, Sabrina walked into the crowd of angels, all of them dividing when she closed the distance between them. She held her nose up a bit and looked on at nothing in particular. Her emotionless gaze, as well as her very presence, cut a line clean through the angels. "Azreal, Uriel, please follow me. As for the rest of you angels, I ask that you get yourselves situated and get some rest. You all have endured much these past few days."

She halted midstride and looked over her shoulders; directly at nobody, and yet, every angel felt the probing intensity of her icy stare. "And that wasn't a request."

* * *

><p>Sabrina sat in a large ornate chair at a desk in the library at the end of the hall. Uriel held Pantera to her chest as she paced nervously, waiting for the demons Sabrina had requested. She wondered what the Ebon Sai could possibly want with demons; they couldn't possibly be of any help, so Uriel thought. She abhorred the idea of even sharing a room with the wretched creatures responsible for the destruction of her beloved home. But, it didn't matter what she wanted, she thought, The Ebon Sai had plans of her own to fulfill.<p>

When at last the two demons arrived, Uriel had to force herself not to look at them, lest she lose her temper. The hulking Legion Soldier made just about everyone else in the room seem to shrink, aside the Ebon Sai, who upon looking at him, made him shrink away himself. The demoness at his side didn't seem quite as phased by her presence as her companion, but was nevertheless blank. She might as well have been scowling at the Ebon Sai, her eyes didn't hide her blunt and haughty countenance.

Sabrina sat straight and still, hands clasped into her lap. She wore that face she always wore; the one void of any feeling whatsoever. That look frightened most even more than her identity or her power combined. Looking into those eyes while she wore that face was like looking into a shroud of the strangest and coldest of depressing magic one could possible imagine.

"First off, Zephyr, I want to offer my personal thanks for rescuing Phoenix from the catastrophe in Heaven. You have no idea how grateful I am that you spared her from… " she paused upon hearing her own voice crack. She forced herself to speak past the lump in her throat. "Thank you, Zephyr."

The demon bowed his huge head. He needn't say anything. Sabrina had heard his thoughts on his feat, and was nearly moved to tears at the sincerity and humble demeanor he held about the whole ordeal. She thought for a moment that she could've kissed him.

She turned her attention to Lima, the Phantom Griever; one of the many bodyguards to the Dark One himself. Although a haughty woman, Sabrina saw that she, too, knew of the severity that Phoenix was to endure. She knew that all would've been lost had Phoenix been given to the Black Master.

Sabrina stood, her eyes never leaving the demoness for a moment. "As well as a Phantom Griever, you are an herb woman, yes?" Sabrina asked, looking down her nose at the demoness in the skin-tight black leather.

Sabrina wasn't a very tall woman, but she looked tall compared to Lima. The slate-blue skinned demon stood a good two heads smaller than Sabrina. She knew though, what this demon lacked in size, she made up for in malice. She could see it in her arresting magenta eyes. Sabrina thought it a marvel that the demon had enough pluck to her to look directly into her own eyes and now be overwhelmed by fear.

"Yes, Ebon Sai, that is true." A stricken, if not restrained voice replied.

"And I also understand that you have given Phoenix something to help ease her nightmares?"

"I gave her marrow, ebon grass, achenitiem, bigelow cone, and hospice. I put it in her pillow to help her sleep without dreaming. It's the dreams that are the only problem. Although I don't know how she was able to fall asleep anyways, not after-" she looked to have caught herself and cast a quick glance at Zephyr. "I… well, I know I wouldn't be able to. I'd be too heated over not killing the lowly bastard myself."

Zephyr chuckled. Azreal and Uriel didn't. Sabrina couldn't.

"Lima, thank you. I greatly appreciate what you've done. It's late, you should go and get some rest." Sabrina caught the quick glance to Zephyr. "Angels and demons, as well as everything else in the universe need to get some rest every now and then so that they can work and function properly. We all need some rest. Zephyr, would it be any trouble to-"

"No, Ebon Sai. I slept last night. I shall watch over Phoenix." He interrupted in that menacing voice of his.

Sabrina wasn't too fond of being spoken over, but she disregarded the act with a wave of her hand. "Very well, than. Thank you."

Lima smiled a dark smile. Walking over, she slapped the back of her hand to Zephyr's stomach. "You up to it, boy? Can you make due without me here to guide your hand?"

Zephyr scowled down at the woman, looking like a towering figure to her. "I have been requested to act as the Phoenix's bodyguard. If anyone tries to get in that room without the Ebon Sai's consent, I'll be picking them out of my teeth."

Lima shrugged. "I guess the boy can handle it." She wiped her hands on her hips, casting a glance over to Uriel. Walking over, she placed a fist on her hip as she walked, planting another on Uriel's shoulder. The angel felt her blood heat. She was suddenly aware of her gnashing teeth.

"Come, Hellguard. You look old. It's about time you got some rest." She passed a critical eye over Azreal as she passed. "And, you were right about rest, Ebon Sai. You need to get some sleep too." Lima said. "You don't look well."

"I… I want to check on Phoenix first. I'll sleep much better if I know she's alright." She gave the demoness a firm look so as not to give her any ideas on arguing with her. She then turned and made her way to where Scout was resting, and on the way there, encountered Death. He suggested he accompany her, not mentioning aloud that she was, in fact, with a demon twice her size. Well isn't that sweet, she thought; Death knows how powerful she is, and yet still is concerned for her being in the presence of one demon. She thought him an old fool, but enjoyed his company nevertheless.

Reaching the door, Sabrina suddenly paused. She came close and pulled Death's arm in a subtle manner. The eldest Nephilim leaned closer as she whispered something into his ear. For a moment, his cold countenance faltered, but it was so quick, no one would've ever noticed. He then reached forth and pulled open the door, entering after Sabrina had.

Phoenix's room was dark, but the light coming from the pale blue light orb proved enough to find the bed. Sabrina glided over and listened to the even breathing.

She knew hoe distraught Scout was by the recent… unfortunate events. She felt the same pain, but she knew she really had no clue. She had not seen it through her eyes. How many more people would suffer? How many more were suffering this night? What other horrible misfortunes awaited Phoenix in the future?

Sabrina sat lightly on the edge of the bed. She slipped an arm under Scout's shoulders and strained to gently lift her up. The child murmured her name in her sleep, but didn't wake as Sabrina sat her up and leaned her heavy weight against her.

Sabrina stroked her hair and set her head onto her breasts. She leaned back with Scout and had her lie slightly atop of her. God, she was heavy.

"Death, my love, you have no idea how much I have missed her. How much I've wanted to hold her in my arms again." She said, concerning the Nephilim on the other side of the room with her sad eyes.

Death stood beside the door and folded his arms over his strong chest. He said nothing, though he understood the longing. After several millennia of being separated from his siblings while he constructed his home on the dead world where the Abomination Vault resided, he was confronted by his sister, who revealed how concerned she was for him. Nothing had felt better than to have her arm around his, to feel that she was there and that someone was worried about him while he had been absent. He had missed his siblings as well, but failed to give his brothers any confirmation of it.

Sabrina hugged Phoenix's head, holding her freckled cheek to her breast. Sabrina pressed her cheek on top of her head as a tear rolled over the bridge of her nose and into disheveled blonde waves. Sabrina was glad that the light from the lamp was dull enough so that Death would not see her like this. He had seen her in tears once before, but this was different. Her past morose had been that of a guilty conscience, now, she was just crying from the reunion to her beloved Guardian.

"I love her so much. You have no idea how much I have missed her. You truly don't." she whispered, almost to herself.

Sabrina watched in the low light as Death closed the distance between them and felt as he put a hand on her shoulder. Perhaps he did know how much she had longed to see her Guardian safe.

Phoenix muttered something she didn't quite understand, except for the word "love." Sabrina eased the child back onto her pillow and slipped her arm out from underneath her. She pulled the covers up over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Before she had left the room, by a foreign impulse, Death reached down and brushed a few rogue blonde curls from the child's face. Her face was warm, feverish as it felt. On his way out the door, he told Sabrina as much. She said to worry not about it. She was the Phoenix Sai ; they were always hot.

* * *

><p>On her way to her own room, Uriel told Lima that she should get some sleep and leave her be. The demoness was being awful stubborn about it, though.<p>

"I'm not going to leave you unguarded, Champion of Heaven." Lima insisted.

Uriel didn't trust her. "The Ebon Sai gave us an ord-"

Lima glanced over out of the corner of her eye. "I have no intention of letting her down. She has implied, if not by her words, by her actions, that you are a valuable asset to her plans." When Uriel started to protest, Lima spoke over her words. "If it will make you feel better, post your little shifter outside of your loft, too. Those things are as nasty as they are cute. And she's a little one; more than deadly. I will nap there, and should something happen, I will be at hand. I'll get enough sleep."

Uriel was in no humor to argue. "You know how people can get if they don't enough rest. Especially when they're told to do so."

Lima let out a dismissive chuckle. "In case you haven't already been told, Hellguard, Phantom Grievers are stronger than most demons. Besides, the case of exhaustion you've witnessed were from shock and days without rest. I slept yesterday."

After the things Uriel had been through the past few days, no, that past century, sleep was the last thing she wanted to do. Her mind still spun with the horrors of what had happened to her many comrades, and with thoughts on how to overcome this demon protector in bone-clad black leather. A fellow protector or not, she didn't want Lima to know just how terrified she really was. That, and she didn't trust the woman as far as she could throw her.

"I don't know if I can sleep just yet. I'm not tired."

"You look tired, Uriel. You need rest. I want you to get a good night sleep, like Phoenix. You can rest easy knowing that just like her, you'll be safe. You have no cause for fear tonight, so you can sleep well."

"Lima, what are you afraid of, besides Hellguard."

Lima scowled. "I do not fear the Hellguard. I simply dislike them."

Uriel didn't believe a word of it. She waited until they were out of earshot of a few angels passing in the other direction.

"What scares you, demon? What do you fear?"  
>"Nothing."<p>

"Lima," Uriel admonished. "It's me, Uriel. The very Hellguard you dislike so much, yet treat so protectively. Surely you are being friendly. Or, at least, your assumption of friendly. But everyone is afraid of something."

Lima snorted her distaste. "I wish to die defending a nation worth defending, not the Kingdom of Lies. I have denounced my service to Hell. I now serve the Phoenix, not some unseen, absent Devil. I fear young Scout failing in her task and leaving us without a power to defeat Abrigor's little gnash posse."

"I'm afraid of that, too." Uriel whispered. "I'm afraid that if Scout gets killed, then we're all doomed…"

Lima could tell that the angel was no longer seeing the empty hall. "The Phoenix will find a way to win. If the tales are true, nothing can stop her once she has control of that gift of hers."

Uriel brushed her nose on the back of her hand. She let her eyes drift from Lima to the engravings of dragons carved into the walls and columns at the sides of the corridor they were passing through. Their boot strikes echoed off of the marble floor.  
>"I'm afraid of this place; the Ebon Sai, her dragons, her magic, all of it. But I know not the reason why."<p>

Lima's voice softened in sympathy. "Angels are often angry or afraid of things that they cannot understand. This is no different." Her glowing magenta eyes stared intently at the angel. "Just give it some time. Soon, you'll see that there is as much danger here as there was in your own home world. Once you learn more about this place, your fears will assuage themselves."

"Thank you, Lima," Uriel whispered with sincere gratitude. "I suppose you aren't that bad after all… Maybe."

* * *

><p>Phoenix opened her eyes, groggily concerning the room about her. She covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned, having slept more than she had in months. She stared around the dark room around her, nearly all black. She started when a huge crash of thunder sounded outside of a close window. The curtains were drawn over it. She slid the smooth covers off of her body, realizing she no longer wore the robes Vion had given her. She was now wearing a loose fitting black blouse, cut square at the neck, and baggy black pants that hugged her waist, and nothing else. They were a bit long on her, but that was okay.<p>

Her stomach suddenly flipped. She remembered Vion, the way he looked at her when he was beating her, the way he smiled when she screamed. His smile terrified her. It almost made her throw up. She looked into her lap, sitting in the center of the bed, and watched them slowly become a watery blur. She could feel her lips quivering, so she bit down on them.

Burring her face into her hands, she shook and wept, collapsing onto the grey sheets and black and blue blankets. She had no idea where she was now. She wished Sabrina were here with her, or Penumbra. Anyone so as to not be alone, with just her thoughts. She was scared. She had no idea what became of her friends back at the White City. She felt raped. All she wanted was to take a bath and get Vion's hands off of her. She thought for a moment that she could hear his laughter. Laughing at her. Thunder crashed and echoed outside. Phoenix liked it because then she couldn't hear the laughter.

Hands clenched into tight fists, she tried to control her weeping. Her nose ran, so she wiped in onto the sheets out of sheer habit. She forced herself up onto her arms and examined her surroundings, all so dark. She turned to the stand beside of her bed and reached for the pale blue orb of light. It was a bit heavier than she thought it would be, but she held it out at an arm's length. It illuminated the luxurious bedroom.

She jumped at a small knock on the door to the far side of the room. It slowly creaked open. Phoenix froze.

A white face peered in, a beautiful smile on her grey lips. A fine silver chain surrounded the smooth, rhombus-shaped stone in her forehead. Black ringlets fell all around her face and shoulders, falling to the small of her back. She stepped in and closed the door behind her back. Phoenix moaned at seeing the familiar face and scrambled off of the bed, running to her.

She threw her arms around Sabrina's shapely waist. She buried her face into her chest, crying again, embracing the woman in a vice hold.

Wincing, Sabrina put an arm around her, the other hand brushing her mess of blonde waves back. "Shh, Phoenix. It's alright. I'm here, you're alright." She tenderly rubbed Phoenix's back as she shook. "You're alright, my love. You're safe here."

Scout almost fell limp into those arms. So long, she had wanted to embrace her companion, and now, it was as if the roles had been reversed. She was now being held by the child she once lived to protect. She wondered how she could've gone from a small little girl to the positively beautiful woman she was now. She must've used magic, she thought.

She knew, though, Sabrina would tell her everything. And she did.


	13. The Primordials

_"Long ago, before time itself was born, there were the Nine. They ruled over all life, allowing their children to coexist with one another. The followers of light and fire and love and order, and the followers of darkness and cold and seclusion and chaos, lived together. Some of these worlds were in great harmony, but most others, were not so lucky. Most of these worlds were destroyed by their own inhabitants, mostly by their confusion and corruptible natures. However, those that shown to be strong and righteous managed to hold firm against the opposing forces during the war._

_"It was then, that the Morning War was incited. The forces of Good and Evil fought against one another for nearly an entire millenia, taking one another down to a man. The Primordials themselves, merely watched from a distance as their children slaughtered one another. Some of the Nine couldn't bear to see their creations do things such as those, so they took their chosen, their Exalted children, and his them away. The rest of the Nine sought to restore the balance between their children, as well as their worlds. _

_"It was then that a few of their Hier children were born, Tier meaning "God." One of those few, was none other than the Creator Himself. He, being the most powerful Tier, was the son and Exalted one of The Unconquered Sun, Autocthon: The First Primordial._

_"The Second Primordial, was born out of the sea. Autocthon created a world of oceans before the Morning War, but had no idea that his power, mixed with that of the water, would create Yggdrasil, the Primordial who gives life._

_"All life comes from the water, and without water, no living thing, or mortal for that matter, can survive. Even angels and Demons rely on water to stay alive. Thus, when Yggdrasil emerged from the oceans of Laudgra, Autocthon saw that she was on par with him in power. He went to her in the dawn of her life and told her that is she had an ear to listen, eyes to watch, and a mind to learn, he would teach her to use her gift for the good of the Multiverse. __Of course, eager to be loved and taught, she accepted._

_"The Third Primordial, appeared out of the dust and remains of a world and it's inhabitants, draconic creatures who came to the end of their fruitful lives. Born also from the sorrows of their creator, Yggdrasil, came her young brother, The Ebon Dragon. He came forth from the despair and grief of his sister, and in that birth, he shown that in Death, there was also life._

_"Although an ominous force, The Ebon Dragon proposed to use his gift to better the Multiverse in the way he felt to be right. Although he was always a loyal and wise Primordial, his brethren did no understand his method on preserving life. At least he was always in line._

_"The fourth Primordial was Alvos, born out of the Light. Autcthon saw Alvos, like a child , parading in the light of Sol Invictus, and declared him to be the Paragon of Light. He saw his heart was pure and full of the light he had created, and he had a way of causing other's hearts to swell with the light he so very much adored. He was more than eager to be taken under the wings of his brethren, more than eager to learn to use the Light and show others the glory of it._

_"The Fith Primordial was Dearkon, a figure crafted by the hands of Alvos himself, for want to prove that he could create a being on par with himself to help him rule his worlds. Dearkon was an orderly man, who cared of nothing but justice and balance, wanting to preserve things in the worlds of not only Alvos, but of all of his Primordial brethren. And he had the power and the means necessary to do so. You could say, he was a bit of a control freak._

_"Now, after_ _five grand Primordial children, there were, of course, the troublesome children._

_"Soulfson, the Sixth Primordial, was the exact opposite of his blood brother, Dearkon. Dearkon accidentally created Soulfson from a horrible headache, which his mischievous brother came bursting through his skull and claiming that Dearkon be careful what he be thinking about when in such a state of mind, that Trouble would be born of it. And so it was._

_"Soulfson was anything and everything chaos; trouble, mischief, the whole nine yards. he was no less a kind and merciful person, believing that none should be struck with misfortune unless they deserved it. If bad things were done to one, the antagonist would be afflicted with misfortunes of a great degree until he redeemed himself. __Karma, so Soulfson called it._

_"The Seventh Primordial was Fotis. She is a somewhat familiar story._

_"As a young Shadowling, created by the Ebon Dragon, she wanted nothing more than to be the favorite of the Primordials. She did everything in her power to please them, but for some reason, she was frowned upon. She thought it simply must have been because she was a Shadowling; a creature of the dark that was repulsed by all and was to be feared and hated. Even still, she wanted so much to believe that she could do good._

_"Tragic to tell, she came to the realization that she was created for the darkness, and there was no way for her to escape that bond. So, if she couldn't defeat her own darkness, she would rule it. She would create a force so horrible, so evil, that it would make the tortures of what we now know as Hell seem like a lover's embrace. The Shadows; sentient matters of nothing but Darkness and terror, wretched evils beyond your wildest dreams. Fotis was as powerful as the rest, but none were more hated then she was._

_"The Eighth born was The Phoenix. Now she was the most ferocious. She was born simply out of anger and contempt, mixing with the conflicting emotions of love and admiration for the fellow Primordials. Short-tempered and quick witted, she was a woman to be reckoned with. On more than one occasion, she nearly beat her brethren near to death, simply for getting under her skin. Her and Fotis were the most bitter of enemies. Any chance they would get, there would be a bloodbath. Nobody ever came out on top. They always ended their spats with the death of another world. Bitter wars, those two would arouse. Their rivalry would never end, it seemed. _

_"The Phoenix was no one's child, she said. She was born of all of the anger and blood lust and love and compassion of her fellow Primordial brothers. However, a Mother of Warriors, she is a loving and compassionate entity who will do whatever it takes to protect her loved ones. Going so far as to put entire galaxies out of their misery for the sake of one Primordial race. She pretty much wrote the book on Wrath and War._

_"Now the youngest Primordial, one of almost sheer perfection, was the Frostbane. A child of Innocence, the very embodiment of innocence and love. A creature made up of icy remnants of forgotten love, made anew in warm flesh. She, being the youngest Primordial, is still a mystery to the universe. All we really know is that she is sheer beauty and love, indescribable love._

_"This, my love, is all I know about our Patrons. The rest is up to you to learn."_

* * *

><p>Azreal glanced away from War's eyes. He was none too fond of their piercing intensity. Normally, he could take the stare, but when War spoke of Eris, his eyes seemed to catch fire. Indeed, it frightened Azreal.<br>"We did what we had to do. By casting her out, we felt it was the only way to keep her safe." He shook his head, his long silver hair falling over his shoulders as he reflected on the unfortunate chain of events that led to Eris's fall.  
>"We always warned her never to tell anyone but the Archons and the Prophets about the prophecies, but once, she did. The angel ran screaming from the Crystal Spire. I never found out who he was before he fled." Azreal paused for a moment, facing all four grim-faced Horsemen. "Eris sometimes seems crazy, out of her mind. Sometimes, she seems to be the most dangerously unbalanced person in the whole universe. Eris views the worlds not only by what she sees around her, but also by a filter of madness that resides in her mind."<br>War glowered at the Archangel. "When I first confronted her after all of that, she professed to not remembering the prophecies, or having told anyone. I found out, much later, that she wasn't lying. Her mind was lost, but her body wasn't."  
>"The madness of an Exalted of Soulfson is something far beyond anything you could ever conceive of, my dear Angel of Death."<br>The Ebon Sai's voice rang clearly amongst the squabble of everyone else speaking at that moment. Azreal's ivory eyes snapped over to the wide door frame and watched at the woman strode in, holding a trembling Phoenix at her waist.

Holding Sabrina's waist while she walked was the only support Scout really had. Her legs had all the strength of wet rope as she walked with her companion down the winding halls. She felt so sick and elated all at the same time. Every angel she encountered on her way to the library where Sabrina said she had someone waiting for her, she had to run over a hug them tightly. Some of them lifted her up and spun her around with the blithe they had at seeing her alive. She had done that to every angel she seen.  
>when she saw a worn and exasperated Azreal as she rounded the corner ahead, behind a wide black column, Phoenix had to go to him. She nearly ran to him, beaming, and threw her arms around his slender frame. She squeezed around him in a way that almost made Azreal feel like she was trying to crush him. His eyes widened, and he fumbled back a few paces. He could feel her face burring itself into his chest, saying things he couldn't quite make out, accept for the words, "Worried so much about you."<br>Looking down on her iced blonde hair, he almost felt a lump rising in his throat. It reminded him much of Penumbra's embraces. Phoenix's arms were much stronger, though, and not as tender. How sweet was Phoenix, though? The Angel of Death, and still she decided to run to him. It was kind of funny, how she ran to him and fell against him, squeezing her arms around his waist. He put one arm around her strong shoulders and the other on top of her head.  
>"I... I know... I was worried for you as well, Phoe-" he stopped and cleared his throat as he caught a glare from War across the room. "-Scout." he said with all of the tenderness he could gather.<br>Stretching up on her tiptoes, she stood a bit taller and managed to plant a kiss on his jawline. Tears slid from her eyes and down her freckled cheeks, making little wet spots on Azreal's robes. She looked up at him, setting her chin on his chest. Her quivering lips smiled, a huge toothy grin, and his eyes almost seemed to melt with hers, sharing the same ecstasy in their reunion. Her lips moved, trying to form words, but only the squeaks and squeals of sheer joy escaped her throat, making her bury her face in Azreal's chest again.

Her eyes met Uriel's, and she did the same thing. Uriel groaned at the strength of Scout's strong arms around her, but was quick to return the gesture. Fury,a s it seemed, watched the child's animation with great interest. A flash of recognition faltered her features as she observed The Phoenix Sai's abnormally affectionate actions.

For some strange reason, she could almost swear that when she looked at The Phoenix Sai's face, she saw Micheal, Archangel of Heaven, staring back at her. The shape of her face, and those big eyes, looked almost identical to the man.

Fury remembered Micheal, as did the other Horsemen. He was Heaven's mightiest lieutenant, the strongest and most powerful angel in all of Heaven. It was Micheal, in fact, who cast Lucifer and his legions out of Heaven and into the Abyss. He was practically the leader of Heaven itself. Until, of course, he went missing. The Horsemen were given the important task of locating Micheal and returning him to Heaven, but he was nowhere to be found. It was like he simply vanished. Never had anyone suspected that he would just leave; abandon his city and his brethren, seemingly overnight.

That begged the question: Why did young Scout, here, look almost identical to the man?

* * *

><p>Karma held out an arm. "What do you think? I fixed all of Ivory's torn-up robes and made 'em look good as new!" She beamed proudly.<p>

The young nephilim turned Ivory one way, then the other. Ivory tried to mimic a natural stance, while feeling anything but natural. With no clue what to do with her hands, she clasped her hands behind her back. Her cheeks were almost as pink as her eyes, which flicked here and there, avoiding any eye contact.

Atrocor was lounging between the roots of an old tree. His left leg was draped casually over the large roots as he slouched with his elbow propped on Zodiac's shoulder. His chin rested thoughtfully in the heel of his hand. His finely crafted scythes hung down, their points touching the ground in front of him.

Atrocor smiled that handsome smile of his; the one that said he was sincerely pleased.

"My dearest cousin, I think she looks simply wonderful."

"Really? You're not just sayin' that, are you?" Karma beamed, practically bouncing in place.

"You don't think I look... silly, do you?" Ivory's meek little voice asked, eyeballing herself in the aqua-blue and pink robes she normally wore, now clinging to a petite and curvy figure she didn't remember having.

Atrocor chuckled. "Most definitely not. More than pretty; simply beautiful."

Zodiac snorted and cast a blind glance in Ivory's direction. "Don't listen to him. My brother is a shameless flatterer-"

"Ah, but even without sight, my sweet, sweet baby sister, you see it. You see how lovely she looks. "Atrocor interrupted, smugly grinning out of the corner of his mouth.

Karma, a thin, strong little thing with a head of silver curls so unruly it looked as though she had never brushed a day in her life, pulled Ivory's pastel pink skirt out to show Atrocor. She gripped the fabric around the seam of the shirt and held it between her thumbs. "The stitching looks good, doesn't it?"

Ivory suddenly remembered how to conduct herself and nervously smoothed the pink satin at her hips. "It- it's not the best fit-"

Karma popped her lips and scurried under her skirt, reappearing out of the other side of her. "Aww, don't be so coy, angel! It fits you perfectly, and it looks a lot neater, now." Karma said,whisking around her and sharply tugging the material.

Atrococr folded his strong arms over his chest and studied Ivory the way a sculptor studied his work. He squinted, rolled his tongue around inside of his cheek, and made little sounds in his throat in decision.

"She's right, Ivory. It fits you much better than it did before. Hugs your figure."

Ivory turned red. Her heart fluttered to hear a man like him compliment her so. She was never noticed by anyone before, other than Azreal, but she was certain that the Angel of Death saw her only for her intelligence and innocence rather than her looks. Because she could read and write and because she was patient, intelligent, and obedient, he named her as a novice scribe. Quite often she would run errands for him and participate in many of his lectures, but it seemed as though he paid her little, if no mind at all.

Atrocor did, though.

Sometimes, when she looked into his red eyes, she almost saw something there, only for a second, that Atrocor was quite insane. But when that arrogant smile came onto his face, she melted into his confidence. When she wondered about her fellow angels and what happened to them, he always assuaged her fears with promises that they were indeed safe, and that she would soon see for herself.

When the skies grew darker in the strange, wet world they had traveled too, they all made to separate from one another. Atrocor was to go to Lostlight and retrieve an ancient relic to be delivered to Azreal, Zodiac was going to the City of the Dead to speak with an old soul, and Karma... Little Karma was to go on her own to find the Ebon Sai and the Horsemen herself. Ivory was genuinely concerned for the little thing, those Horsemen were no picnic, and she was supposed to find War, of all of them, and "Teach him a lesson" as Zodiac had said.

Karma stood still and calm as Zodiac tied the cords of her cloak around her neck. She pulled the flaxen hood up over the already damp silver curls and petted her soft cheeks. Karma smiled up at her cousin, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to see it. The way Zodiac's slate blue lips smiled at her, though, made her think that she did in fact, see the smile. It made Karma's heart swell with joy.

"Now, remember, Karma," Zodiac said, in that sweet voice of hers she hardly ever used. "This is very important. Once you find the Horseman, you don't let him out of your sight, no matter how much he may seem to abhor you, understand?"

Karma nodded once and wiggled a drop of rain from her nose. "I won't let you down, Zodiac. I know how important this is. I'll try my to make things right." She looked, and saw Ivory smiling sweetly at her. Atrocor was giving her that handsome grin of his. Karma mirrored that handsome smile, making Atrocor seem to laugh without sound.

"Listen to me," Zodiac said again. "You cannot tell War who he really is to you. A rift would occur, and the chain of events will be altered, leading to an even worse future for the rest of Creation. He will have to figure it out on his own."

Karma nodded, her curls bobbing in the wet rain. "I know. He's not as dumb as Nazareth and Lazarus. He'll figure it out. Maybe sooner than I'm anticipating."

Zodiac smiled. There was almost nothing that could bring this sweet little Proxie down. She was always so optimistic; so positive and resilient. She thought even more so when Karma squeezed her waist in a tender hug, telling her she would miss her.

In all actuality, it broke her heart. She knew that after this, she would never see Karma alive again. This was to happen, of course, to save the future. Karma had to die, as did she. As did Atrocor and Ivory. They all had to die if it meant the gift to live again. But Zodiac and Atrocor didn't tell Karma that she would die; she completely ignorant to it, as was Ivory. Neither knew that in doing their tasks, their lives would be ended. But, as long as the future would be saved, that was okay with them. It was okay with Zodiac.

Karma hugged Atrocor and Ivory, who wished her good luck and told her to be careful. As if it were nothing serious at all, Karma bounded off into the dark forest without another word afterwords.

* * *

><p>Ergo lifted her palm to face the sky, feeling the rain quickly flood her hand and trickle to the mossy forest floor beneath her. Securii had been complaining about the cold wetness of this place, and Phobia and Kolo wanted nothing more than to leave, but Ergo was rather enjoying the atmosphere. Wet and cool. She enjoyed nothing more than to spend her time in the rain or the water in general.<p>

When Kolo started suggesting that they all split up and try to find the Ebon Sai on this world more quickly, Ergo was content to be on her own, to search the place for any sign of the Ebon Sai or her brothers. Of course, she knew they would be with her. She had heard Phobia and Securii both say that they picked up traces of their essences along with the Ebon Sai's, and all present at the same time. They were traveling together, as a group. Should she find any of her brothers, Ergo would be elated to see their faces again. Having escaped the purge, she would have no trouble forgiving them of their betrayal, for she knew they were not responsible for the death of her race. No, others were to blame.

Wandering the mossy and muddy forests that nearly covered the whole of this world, she was entirely expectant to be completely alone. She had no idea that she would encounter the sweet little thing all curled into a ball in the underside of a tree. She shivered with the cold, and upon hearing Ergo approach, her eyes fluttered open, and without fear, she concerned her arrival.

"Don't fret, little one, I am simply passing through." Ergo said, assuming the little thing would've been frightened by her presence.

Rather than the anticipated reaction of running away, the little thing pulled her hood back a bit and took Ergo in completely. The woman before her looked like a fish woman with long pretty legs. Bright magenta eyes came kindly to her own, and didn't look the slightest bit frightening to her. Tight interlocking scales of a creamy flesh color covered most of her face and shoulders, fading into a murky teal color at her hips and growing darker down her legs. A few larger pink scales dotted her arms and torso, as well as on her legs, making the color scheme a lot more pleasant on the eyes. Aquamarine hair fell in matted, somewhat tangled locked around her shoulders, falling to the small of her back. It's disorder was alluring. There looked to be bits and pieces of plants and leaves in her hair. Seaweed, no doubt.

"I know you won't. I am passing through, too." the little thing replied, sneezing and shaking her sodden curls from her face. "Where are you going, if you don't mind my asking." She asked.

Ergo blinked the water into her eyes and studied the little thing further. She almost thought she was looking at a _much _younger version of her brother, War. She possessed his eyes, well, eye. The blue one to the right shone just as his once did. The other eye, to the left, was a bright honeydew green. Nevertheless, they shone brightly, filling nearly the whole of her eyes.

"I am looking for someone." Ergo said, crouching to her knees and raking her hair back with her long nails.

"Me too. I'm looking for my-" she paused and seemed to choke on her words, falling into a sudden bout of coughing. She recovered and resumed her explanation. "I'm looking for someone , too. I can't seem to find them, though."  
>"Well," Ergo said, smiling as she pulled the flaxen hood of the cloak back up over the little things head. "Perhaps I can help you. We can look together, if you want."<br>Ergo's smile brightened when the child came to a decision, grinning up at her. "My name's Ergo."  
>"Mine's Karma." She replied, reaching out with her little hand and clasping with Ergo's.<p>

While walking deeper into the forest, Ergo spoke to Karma a lot. Where she was from, how she got here, and that nonsense.

"Might I ask just who you're searching for, little one?" She asked after a few hours of walking.

"I'm looking for the Horsemen of the Apocalypse."

* * *

><p>"Something is very wrong here." Luke grumbled, fluttering his wings. His eyes searched the dark forest around them, into the dark grey brush and soggy grottoes, up into the patches of grey sky visible through the dense trees.<p>

Luke, like many of the other angels left after the fall of Heaven, were requested by the Ebon Sai, as well as Uriel, to scout the area surrounding the temple after Uriel's little... incident.

Trying to climb the stairs into a spire Uriel was called to, she found herself climbing up the same flight of stairs for over an hour. Apparently, She never left the eighth floor, although when she recalled how many floors she passed, she counted more than twenty. Sabrina and Fury decided to do a little experiment on this. Sabrina asked Fury to try and go to the next floor herself, and when she did, she just came back fro behind them, on the previous staircase. It was then that Sabrina had come to the assumption that there was Trickster in the area.

A Trickster.

But it wasn't only to search for the possible Trickster nearby, the angels who volunteered also sought to defend the temple's most precious inhabitant: The Phoenix.

Luke was out with Ignatius , but in this strange world, he felt constantly alone. He didn't feel too much alone, however. Not enough to make him want to neglect his duty to protect Scout. He knew her. She was such a bright figure; so strong and inquisitive and honest. Loyal to her friends, too. She was an admirable little thing, as young as she was.

Luke personally favored humans. He had encountered a few while serving on Earth during the End War. The few surviving humans he had encountered, he unwillingly became quite attached to. The same went for Phoenix. Her sweet, boyish grin and adorable freckles reminded him of Mary. His heart ached to think about the sweet little human child, although he did cherish the memories of her.

Often times, he found himself in a state of morose so great, it would overwhelm him. The withdraw made others concerned for him. He would never speak to anyone unless spoken to, and he was a normally talkative and vivacious person. Whenever he heard a voice, it was Mary's. When he had fallen asleep for the first time in ages, his sleep was flooded with dreams of her embracing him, and of her sweet laughter. It was such a shame that he could only keep Mary alive for so long. Almost a decade after the End War, he managed to keep her alive. She was only nineteen when she died; such a woefully young age for a human to die.

Ignatius clapped a hand to Luke's breastplate, startling him from his thoughts.

"What's wrong? You see something I didn't?"

Luke looked his companion in the eyes. They both shared a golden glow. "I just... I don't feel right here. Something's watching us." He said, raking an armor-backed glove back through his fine white hair.

Ignatius turned back, the ponytail of his long, blonde hair slipping over his broad shoulder plates. He listened Quietly, looking this way and that throughout the forests, sniffing the air.

"You're right," he said, tapping Luke's forearm with the tip of his sword. "We should leave, now. And tell the others close by."

Luke and Ignatius steadily balanced themselves as they both crossed a swollen creek on a fallen log. The sky slipped behind the trees. The return of darkness pleased them, because they knew it would make things easier when it came to hiding. The predator stalking them, however, didn't need any light to find them. She already had their scent.

These silly fools, she thought. They would be no less dead if they were caught and eaten by dragons than if they were to suffer her poisonous bite.

Securii, a good three miles away, halted and crouched low, studying the lay of the land. Her thin pupils grew to nearly fill her iris, and she could see the two angels clear as day in the low light. She could smell their sweat; cold, metallic sweat. And only one thing smells like that: Fear. It could be carried on the wind for miles.

With a shooing motion, the longer-haired angel signaled for his comrade to get going. Securii followed in the twisting gorge, trying to keep track of their scents while they trudged through the ribbon of water running through it.

Silver shafts of light beamed down in patches through the trees. Securii stopped and took a quick appraisal of the landscape where the light was enough for a moment. She took notice of the tall and stout men shoving their way through the brush.

Securii was a small woman, smaller than any of her Nephilim brethren. Smaller than Penumbra. But what this animal lacked in size, she made up for in sheer brutality and malice, as well as her animalistic and feral strength. Her strength and ferocity was all the more overwhelming for her prey. She was an uncontrollable warrior, going so far as to attack her own kin. Sometimes, whenever a Nephilim went missing, fingers pointed to the cannibalistic animal, and most of the time, the claims they had made were proven true. Thankfully, she had no intention on preying on these angels. She needed them to lead her to her destination.

That, and she had eaten Hellguard before. They were bitter.

In the low, mossy valley ahead, the stream ran into a wall of woods. Luke turned to tell Ignatius that their best bet was to try and fly back to the temple. Ignatius refused, reminding him of what the Ebon sai had warned them about: If a dragon had them in their line of sight, flying away would only excite it.

Securii held her breath. Looking ahead, she was a pair of perfect Shifter paws in the mud. They startled her for a moment, until she realized that they were her own. Phobia did say that there was a young pup traveling with the angels, though. Perhaps she was here. But how many angels were here as well?

Luke and Ignatius trudged through the cold ravine when, not too far away, a loud, shrill, wolf-like howl rang out over the sounds of the forest. They realized then, that a dragon wasn't at their backs in this dammed place. It was something much, _much _worse.


	14. Something About That Nephilim

All he really remembered was losing his grace, and deciding to lie there, in the middle of the square, to die. Then he saw a demon carrying Scout off with him. Someone stopped him, through. He knew not who it was for sure, but he knew it was a woman. A very pale and shapely woman. It was that same woman who approached his battered body and told him that he was to live, that his services were not over yet. He wanted to die, though. He felt like he had failed his city, and wanted nothing more than to die an honorable death. He also wanted to keep Scout safe, but he had failed in that, too.

Now, he was incapacitated. He spent his days since his extraction in a dark room, either sleeping or trying to move on his own. He couldn't stand not doing anything. Ezekiel was young and anxious to make his mark against evil, and was more than a good soldier: shrewd, loyal, and sometimes, a harsh taskmaster, as well as a benevolent helper. Not a day goes by that he did nothing in the White City; he always had work to do to keep him busy. He hated, though, not being able to move at all. His recovery was so slow, probably because he was human now.

That in itself made him sick to his stomach. When he first came to after his accident, he did get sick, and fell with a fever for almost an entire week. Luckily, he had his old time friend, Caleb, as his healer and temporary therapist. He was so glad to see that he was alright, but whenever he tried to ask about him, his concern for Scout came out instead. He found himself asking if she was alright quite a lot.

All he could think to do is ask if Scout was okay. He had been in and out of sleep, and all he wanted to know is if she was still alive. That was all he wanted. No one knew of her well being, though. Caleb said that all he knew was that Phoenix was in the care of a demonic herb woman.  
>They might as well have told him that they had handed Phoenix over to the devil himself.<p>

Ezekiel had no idea what time it was, all he knew was that it was dark and storming. He didn't remember the last time he had seen a decent thunderstorm. When the lightning flickered and thunder crashed outside, he tried to recline back in his bed to get a better look out his window. It was in vain, though. He liked storms, and had found them quite relaxing.

A sound knocking at the door startled him for a moment, snatching him from his brooding. He heard his name being called, but didn't recognize the voice as Caleb's. When the knocking came again, the door opened, ever so slightly. From the solace of the shadows, he could barely make out the face behind the huge, black door. The figure held a small orb of blue light to her chest, which illuminated only a small portion of her face. He knew that nose and body shape anywhere. Her large eyes gave her identity away more than anything. Cinnamon red and wet with tears. She whispered his name and shut the door behind her.

Elated, Ezekiel tried to move to her, but the searing pain in his back and legs protested, making him groan in pain. She went to him anyway and crawled onto his bed, wrapping her arms around his neck and straddling his waist. He put one arm around her, holding himself up with his other arm. Her body made funny little movements against him. She was crying. So was he. They both sobbed into one another, saying all kinds of things all at the same time, how much they missed one another, how worried they were, and how scared they were for one another.

In Ezekiel's mind, it was like he was speaking to another angel. The way Phoenix spoke about the angels and their beloved city was as if she was a part of that place too. He knew that for the longest time, she felt like the White City was her home, and that the fellow angels were her family. That was how she treated everything and everyone. To her, Ezekiel was her brother, not by blood, but by bond. She had told him plenty of times that she loved him, and he felt in his heart that she did. She told almost every angel she knew that she loved them. Even Uriel couldn't hide from her affections.

He recalled once that while Uriel was demonstrating some self-defense techniques to Scout, she had pinned the human to the ground and knocked the wind out of her. When Scout didn't go to stand again, she laughed, lying on her back on the ground and asking Uriel to help her up. Uriel protested, asking Phoenix, "Do I look like your mother?"

Phoenix had made the straightest face Ezekiel had ever seen and answered. "Yes." She threw her hand back up at Uriel and closed her eyes, grinning. "Mom, help me!" she laughed.

Ezekiel , Luke, Olivia, and Ruth had laughed more that day than they ever had in their lives. Uriel, although strict and stricken while training always laughed at Scout. That human just had a way of making everyone laugh, if not with her, at her.

Although Scout's embrace hurt, he didn't break away, couldn't break away if he wanted to. So, he just held her while she cried. He held her and talked to her, told her that he wasn't an angel anymore. She had so many questions, but he had few answers for her. She asked him how it could be possible for an angel to just become human, which he said that his Grace was taken from him, and his wings were ripped from their nodes.

She traced her fingers along all of his wounds, including the ones on his back, where his wings used to be. The skin felt tight in that area, but she felt them anyway. Her fingertips across his skin made him blush, even though he knew she was just curious as to what had happened to him.

"So, if you're human, does that mean you're not a Hellguard anymore?" she asked as she opened the curtains for him. She winced at the lightning, not out of fear, but out of the fact she was so used to the darkness of this place, that too bright a light hurt her eyes.

"I don't know… I would say no. I'm human now, Scout." Ezekiel replied, his groggy voice laced with sadness.

Scout sank into bed beside him, lying slightly atop him. She nestled her head into the crease of his neck and rested her right leg over his left, ranting about how "weak" humans were, and that he was being a huge crybaby.

"I know I have no right to call you out on your total crybaby-ness, but just hear me out: Just because you're human now, doesn't make you weak. Look at me. I'm a human, and I'm here, worlds away from home, with a bunch of crybaby angels and the Horsemen."

He and Scout laughed and talked for what felt like hours, until she was asked to leave him to rest by Nancy, another angelic medic. It was an utter disappointment, but Scout listened and departed, not without a little goodbye hug and a tiny kiss to his forehead. He meant to tell her that he loved her, but she was out the door before he could utter another word.

* * *

><p>Karma covered her mouth as she yawned, approaching the massive stone structure in the blackness of the forest. She was tired and wet and felt sick. All she wanted was to stop and rest. This huge temple looked none too inviting, but it looked to be dry, at least.<p>

Ergo squeezed her hand a little bit as they drew closer to the towering wall of trees. "This is where I'm headed. It seems as though I am a bit early." She said, as if speaking to herself.

"Why would you be early?" Karma asked, shivering from the cold. She missed her cozy little place in the bunker, where she and Atrocor and Zodiac stayed after her brothers and mother died. She missed them as much as she missed her home.

"Well, I'm waiting to meet up with my siblings. We're looking for someone, and I know for sure that she is here." Ergo said sweetly, rubbing Karma's arm to warm her a little.  
>Suddenly, Karma missed her brothers. Nazareth had always been the strongest. He had to be, of course, he was the oldest. He was strong and clever, reflective, and supportive. Sometimes, it was like he could carry the weight of entire worlds on his strong shoulders. Karma looked up to him, as much as she did her father.<p>

Lazarus was the joker. He always had a way of making her smile. One snide comment, one little trick, could brighten anyone's day. After their mother died, he was always the one to catch Karma when she cried, making her smile again. He was always so charismatic and cordial. Not as strong as Nazareth, but strong in his own way.

But more than anything, she missed her mother and father.

Ergo led her into the temple, onto the grounds in the dark and up the swayback stairs leading to a huge double-door entrance. It was wide open, but no one was around. Ergo surmised that someone knew that they were coming, and didn't want anyone to interfere with their arrival or the business that was to be carried out upon their arrival. Karma didn't care, and told Ergo as much. She just wanted to get dried up and find a descent place to sleep.

Sneezing, she helped Ergo scan their surroundings; the huge anteroom, too dark to really see anything, and the storm overhead in the dome shaped window. She watched the water flow down, wondering where it all would go. She started when she saw a pale blue light reflecting off of the marble floor. Ergo started too, but not as much as Karma did.

When they turned, they were met with the stricken, eerie blue eyes of the Ebon Sai. She held an iron cased lantern in one hand, and had the other hand planted to her hip in a fist. She frowned, but when she looked into Ergo's magenta eyes, her frown faltered. Those eyes came unafraid to the two, but Karma felt she would be sick if she stared at those icy blue orbs any longer. Knowing that the Ebon Sai didn't know who she was made Karma frightened that she would strike her dead should she make a wrong move. Petrified, Karma just stood there quietly, not moving a muscle.

Ergo pointed to her stomach and smiled; not a mean smile, but a dominant smile. She rose up her blouse a little and revealed a huge pear-shaped, pink stone about an inch below her naval. She then pointed to Karma's face, whose cheeks held three little gems on both sides of her face, all circular shaped and golden in color. Karma reached up and felt them. They were warm, and seemed to glow in the darkness. Her eyes then looked to the Ebon Sai's forehead, displaying a glowing blue gem surrounded by a fine silver chain. She looked so elegant, almost like a queen.

"Fear not, Sai Sister. We are Exalted as well. We have- well, I have- been searching for you for a long time now." Ergo said in a voice that sounded smooth, like velvet being rubbed the right way.

"The little one," The Ebon Sai started. Dear Creator, her voice was scary. "she's a Trickster, isn't she?"  
>"Yes." Karma squeaked. "I'm looking for someone." She managed to sputter before falling to a bout of coughing.<p>

Sabrina smiled, a very tiny smile, as she observed the little wet thing. Trickster or not, she was a fellow Exalted; a young one for that matter. That, and she was the cutest thing she ever did see. Her hair must've been insanely curled before it got all wet, her arms and legs had little bruises and scars on them; trademarks of a rambunctious and playful child. She wore a little maroon dress, falling a few inches below her knees, trimmed with black, furry seams, matching the wrist cuffs and the collar.

Her brown leather boots concealed most of her calves, leaving only about an inch of her legs to be seen. Her flaxen crimson cloak was draped delicately over her shoulders. It was all wet with the rain.

Her face, though, was by far her cutest attribute. To Sabrina, she looked like a little War. Not as fierce and intimidating as the savage Horseman, but more gentle. More sweet and innocent. Unlike War's rough and rugged features, this little Trickster had more softer, rounded features.

"Might I ask how you all came here? I received no word that I would be having company." Sabrina asked sternly.

"We simply traveled here. We used teleportational laylines connected to this place that only us Exalted can pass through." Ergo said sweetly. She sounded like a mother explaining how something works to her little child.

"Who are you?" Sabrina asked patiently.

A scaly hand stroked karma's wet curls back out of her face. "The little one here is Karma. She is the Trickster. My name is Ergo. I am Nephilim."  
>Sabrina seemed to lose a little breath at that. She rose her nose up a little bit and grinned. She took a deep breath and lowered the lantern at her side.<p>

"Then it looks like I will be expecting more of you, yes?"

"Yes, Ebon Sai. My siblings are out looking for this place as we speak. I shall summon them here, should you have no issue with it." Ergo replied.  
>Sabrina waved her concern off. "No, no. Summon them if you wish. I assume we all have much to discuss." She faced karma and rolled her neck around, easing the stiffness.<p>

"I also assume the little one here would like a dry place to rest until then?"

The Trickster's sodden silver hair bobbed and waved as she nodded. "I thought you'd never ask." She breathed, coughing a few times.

Sabrina led the two down the expansive hallways, past columns and huge doors and a grand fountain. She talked to Ergo along the way about things Karma didn't really understand, but that wasn't important. She knew that War was here, and although eager to finally greet him, she was scared that she would fail and ruin Atrocor's plans on saving the future.

She really had no clue what to do once she found War. All Zodiac said was to spend plenty of time with him. What would that do? How could that help to save the future? She would've jumped to the chance to spen time with the Horseman any other time in her life, but this was different. This time, he had no idea who she was, and if what Zodiac said was true, he wasn't a very pleasant person before she knew him. What if he didn't like her? What if he avoided her or just destroyed her? Would he do that? Destroy her for no reason?

Sabrina said she was going to go and get karma some fresh clothes to sleep in, but that didn't stop Karma from falling asleep in the huge bed she was given. She liked it when Ergo wrapped all around her in the bed and combed her hair with those long fingernails. Karma laid on Ergo's stomach, who curled all around her and put an arm around her. Ergo's face was close to her ear, as as she lay there, Ergo told her a story about a young mortal named Puk who caused trouble for lords and brought joy to the poor. The words made pictures in Karma's head, and for a while, she wasn't so nervous anymore. A few times, she and Ergo even laughed together.

When she was finished with the story, Karma was already asleep. Ergo kissed the top of her head and continued to pet her head as she slept. Nothing had ever felt as good as her little giggles against her, and the little ballad she and Karma sang quietly together. Ergo thought that must be what it felt like to have a daughter.

She slid easily out of the bed and went over to the glass paned doors leading out onto a balcony. The rain flooded down, nearly soaking the Nephilim. This would be easy, she thought. She knew her brothers were already here, and that they would need to take this reunion slowly, lest things get complicated. Ergo hoped things would go smoothly.  
>She really hoped things would go according to plan.<p>

* * *

><p>"Try again, Scout." Sabrina called from the jade stone steps, holding a few articles of tiny clothing to her chest as she walked.<p>

Phoenix stood in the rain, scowling up at the pale woman who seemed to be smiling in amusement at her repeated failure. She seemed to be enjoying the spectacle of a person stupid enough to try and start a fire in the rain.

"I am trying! It's not working! There's too much rain!" Scout shouted over the sputtering rain.

She stood straight again, feet spread apart and hands up in the air, fingers outstretched. She let her chin drop to meet her chest as she tried to pull the magic from a calm center in her mind. She tried to keep her breathing even, but with all the rain pouring down onto her face, she sometimes sucked it into her nose, making her cough.

She still tried again, this time pulling with all the concentration she could muster. She felt hear gathering in her hands, channeling it through the earth below and into her body. She rose her head up and screamed to the sky.

"I HAVE THE POWER!"

Through the warm swirl of color, Phoenix could hear Sabrina calling her name. it was a distant sound, even though Sabrina was only a short distance away. In the flux of power at the center of all of the flames, it might as well have come from another world.

In some way, it did.

Her voice came again, warning, persistent, urgent. Phoenix all but ignored her as she lifted her arms back up into the rotating smoke of light. Shapes before her hinted their spiritual presence. She almost had it.

At that moment, in a swirl of light and heat, a spark ignited, erupting into a stream of flames that seemed to shoot from the center of her palms. Scout was aware of heat, but no pain. The sudden feeling of the warmth made her open her eyes.

Scout stood hexed by the flames, their depths losing transient whirls of glittering colors and shimmering rays, alive with swaying and spinning movement, tendrils twisting in a dance, luring in the air that whisper her hair in passing, and casting forth heat that had driven the rest back. Behind her, she could hear someone shouting. She didn't know who it was though, she didn't recognize the voice. Whoever it was, they must have thought Scout was burning alive, but she wasn't. not even the slightest bit.

The fire completely consumed her, whirling and spiraling around her like an embrace of some sort. Scout was aware of the heat, but felt no pain.

The feeling of the flames licking at her skin was about the most euphoric sensation she had ever felt in her life. Where onlookers stood, however, the fire sizzled angrily all around, but Scout only heard a soft hum. Many hums in fact, all sounding harmoniously at once, along with her own even and slow breaths.

Somewhere in her mind, Scout could've sworn she heard a woman's voice calling her name. Not really calling, but whispering. The voice was beyond beautiful. It was like a siren call. All around, yet right there, whispering to her, just out of eyeshot. Scout wanted so desperately to go to that voice, but her legs felt so comfortable, so good, she didn't want to move them.

_"Holy crap,"_ she thought for a moment. _"I'm on fire…"_

Over and over her name was called. A tear rolled off of Scout's cheek as she dropped, involuntarily, to the ground on her knees. She felt so amazingly peaceful. But she wanted to go to the voice. She wanted to see the identity of the woman calling out to her. That sweet, powerful, magical voice. It killed her, that she couldn't tell where the voice was coming from.

She touched her forehead to the marble floor and cried. But she smiled. She was smiling and crying. Her tears felt like hot water being poured from her eyes, but the pain was quickly numbed by the pain of the fire.

Suddenly, the wall of power began to collapse. The braided chords of brown leather slipped down her arms as she threw her hands up again, only higher, trying to get a better grip on the magic, trying to stabilize. She was madly hauling a bucket from a well of magic, and finding it empty.

Looking ahead, she noticed the shape of a huge man crumpling to the ground. She could hear his curses and shouts, not out of pain, but out of shock and confusion. To her shock, Scout realized that it was War who was shouting. He was on fire.

War was on fire.

In a fluid motion, almost like it wasn't her controlling her movements, Phoenix leapt up and dashed for the Horseman. Sparkles of colored light fizzled. The twisting light degenerated into a muddy gloom of color. With great speed, it slumped, foundering impotently. War was stupefied. She thumped her hand to his huge gauntlet, because she couldn't reach the rest of him at that moment, and sent a tingling probe of magic through the huge seal on the back of the enchanted thing.

With a thud that shook the ground, the whole elaborately forged warp in the world of reality extinguished. Suddenly, the flames covering his body died out. In a panic, Scout asked if he was okay, but was knocked onto her back before she could form the words.

She lifted her head, watching the youngest horseman stomp away, gripping his forearm. He looked back over his shoulder for a moment, glaring at Scout as she tried to stand back up on her own, and stormed off, shouldering past the other Horsemen, who happened to be standing close by.

Scout's head spun with the shock of what she had just done. She had caught people on fire before, and by people, she meant Azreal. But those flames were different. She hadn't started them, so she thought. If she did, she had no clue how. This time, she was using mental effort to bring forth the fire. Had she inflicted that fire on him purposely? If so, she hadn't meant to. It was an accident. But, knowing War, he probably didn't care. He was just a bitter old man, so she thought.

"Phoenix, are you alright?" Sabrina asked from beside of her. Scout was thinking so hard, she wasn't paying any attention, and didn't see Sabrina come up to help her.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm just fine. He's not hurt is he?" she asked.

"No. you healed him. I saw it, he was shocked, but didn't want anyone to see him like that…" Sabrina answered quietly.

"What do you mean, healed him?" Scout asked as she and Sabrina stepped off of the raised platforms of black marble.

"War has no left arm, my love. That gauntlet of his is more or less a makeshift arm, crafted by Death after he dismembered it. You-"

"How was I healing him, though? I set the poor bastard on fire."

"That's it. Phoenix Fire heals, as well as destroys, so long as the wielder knows what she wants the fire to do for her. The Phoenix can either destroy with her fire, or cast anew from the ashes. It is parts of the power you possess. Both the haunting powers of destruction and the magical forces of creation." Sabrina breathed as she held Scout's waist, leading her in our of the rain and back into the temple. She turned her head back over her shoulder and shouted at Death, telling him to meet her in the Library of the Fifth Spire as soon as possible. When Death asked whatever the reason, she said she simply had someone he should see. And soon.

* * *

><p>The huge demon shrugged. "I have no quarrel with you, Phoenix Sai. I am simply sitting here, minding my own business. If it will make you feel better, I will go someplace else."<p>

Phoenix stared into the demon's blue eyes, noting that there was no malice whatsoever. He wasn't even faking it.

"I don't want any trouble." He said again, slouching further onto the stairs outside of the Fifth Spire's library.

Zephyr wasn't evil, so he thought. He wasn't a saint, hell, he wasn't even lucky enough to be a sinner, but he knew the difference between right and wrong. The thing that set him apart from other demons was that he cared about what was right and wrong.

Phoenix wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She took a seat beside the hulking demon. When she next spoke, she spoke in a soft voice. She wanted only Zephyr to hear.

"Zephyr, I'm sorry about what I said earlier… Ya' know… 'bout how all demons are untrustworthy."

the huge demon stared into his lap, shaking his head and laughing without sound. A big grin split his face. "I completely understand your skepticism. I mean, why trust a demon, right?" he shrugged, but didn't look at her.

"That's no excuse. Don't think I'm tryin' to sugar-coat any of this. The apology isn't for me, it's for you. I'm not some stupid, little kid, tryin' to impress anyone with how good I can be by bein' on my best behavior for you. I mean it when I say I'm sorry." Scout huffed. "I've been an ungrateful little punk towards you, just 'cause you're a demon. I'da been raped and killed if you hadn't come along." Her eyes hardened for a moment. "I think I'm pretty damn lucky you came along when you did."

She paused for a moment and appraised his hideous face. She wasn't really the lucky one. Zephyr had all the luck. He was in the right place at the right time, not to mention, he was in the right state of character. She never noticed it before, but he was different from all of the other demons, somehow. He was more sensible, more practical. He was kind. He was lucky.

He was Lucky.

"Lucky," Phoenix said, a boyish grin settling on her freckled face.

Zephyr snorted a laugh and raised a brow at her, his multi-pierced horns rattling as he shook his head. "What now?"

"That's what I'll call you. Lucky. You gave me luck. Hell, it was luck that you were there when you were there! You saved my life, and after the little punk I've been, you were still cool with me. You're Lucky. I'm the punk."

Zephyr took a deep breath and settled his elbows on his knees. Rain dripped and dropped onto his huge head, hanging in drips at the ends of his huge horns and his chin. "Is that what you are to call me?"

"Do you not like it?" she asked in mock sympathy.

"On the contrary, I do. Zephyr was the name of the demon who swore an oath to the Dark One; who blindly followed murderous and confusing orders from an absent ruler. I no longer serve the Dark One, I serve the Phoenix. I will take whatever name or title you give me and wear it proudly."

Phoenix looked up and saw that the demon was smiling at her. She couldn't feel it, but she was smiling too. For the first time, Phoenix thought that Zephyr was the most gruesomely handsome thing she had ever seen. Sure, he was rugged, ugly, and wretched on the outside, but inside was a heart of gold.

Lucky, the demon with a heart of gold.

She liked that thought, and told Zephyr as much, too. He just laughed and playfully shoved her across the marble sitars.

As the rain came down harder and harder, Lucky advised her that they should return to her loft. She agreed, saying that she was starting to get hungry. He complained some about the cols pelts of rain on his bare back so Scout ended up leaping up onto his muscular back and being held there, keeping his back dry. Indeed, a Legion soldier carrying a small blonde thing through the rain, laughing and carrying on, got it's fair share of attention. Even still, Phoenix came to know Zephyr as a Guardian she could trust and respect. He could end up as close to her as Ezekiel was, she thought.

Then again, that might make the boys jealous.

* * *

><p>Death couldn't believe his eyes. his breath caught itself in his throat. all of his past feelings of remorse and guilt all came crashing in all around him the moment he looked into those magenta eyes. his stomach flipped when he took the rest of her in.<p>

How did Ergo survive the purge? It wasn't possible. He personally scanned the battlefield after the war at the Fields of Paradise. He saw the faces of his slain brethren , silently mourning their souls. Had she been there? Had he missed Ergo? He couldn't recall seeing her corpse among all of the war-torn wreckage. He didn't recall extracting her soul, either. Ergo was special to him; that task would've been more personal, so he thought.

Now that he thought more of it, he could think of a few more corpses he hadn't seen among the rest of the Nephilim's corpses. Kolo, Securii, Vindictus, and... surely there were others.

Could it be true? Could others have escaped? Perhaps the Nephilim weren't as lonely as they had thought for so long now.

Scaly arms wrapped themselves around Death's wiry frame before Death could summon another thought. Ergo's cheek squished itself against his, along with the rest of her. Her low and throaty laughter made him feel like he would choke on the lump in his throat. He could feel her smiling.

Red, yellow, and black beads etched with cryptic symbols boldly garnished the Nephilim's long neck. Dark green and brown leather hugged the woman's thick figure, strapping itself over one shoulder. A long, scaly skirt fell from the small of her back and dragged along on the ground, ending in a sheer, flesh-like membrane; like living lace. The Nephilim's bare feet bore clawed toes, like that of an animal. They didn't, however, diminish the air of grace that haunted the woman's tall figure.

When she pulled away, she moved over to Fury, who stood rigid and shocked as her arms wrapped around her back.

"You all look like you've seen a ghost." Ergo laughed, pulling back and observing Fury's face. "I certainly expected more words from you, sister."

Fury said nothing. She couldn't bring herself to speak. Neither could any of her brothers.

"How many of you are there?" Sabrina asked, hands clasped into her lap.

"There are more. They should be on their way here now. Kolo, Securii, Phobia, and we recently found Vindictus in the Forge Lands." Ergo replied, smiling those green lips over her shoulder.

Fury felt like she would faint. She almost did. If it weren't for Death's hand on her back, she might've fallen. Her stomach felt sick, and she could tell her brothers felt the same way. It was hard to tell, but even War was phased by the sudden appearance of his older sister. She was supposed to be dead. They were all supposed to be dead.

But they weren't


	15. Finally

**Author's note: just a disclaimer, I don't own this song coming up... 0_0 so, yeah...**

* * *

><p>Uriel stood in the rain, fists on her hips and a scowl on her face. She was upside down in Scout's vision. Sodden white hair stuck to the angel's face as she frowned on the child, laughing like a maniac. She had tried to detain Phoenix, only to have her stick her tongue and blow, making crude noises as she scrambled away for another puddle.<p>

"Phoenix!" Uriel growled. "What in Heaven's name are you doing?!"

Scout moved her legs as if trying to run upside down in the air. The blood was rushing to her head. Water splashed and sloshed about as she flopped back onto her back, giggling and coughing up rain as it was sucked down into her throat.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I haven't been this happy in forever!" Scout stammered.

"It looks like you're playing a fool."

"That's it! I'm playin'!"

Uriel leaned over, putting her head above Scout. Her freckled face was red with zeal.

"Phoenix, please. People are staring. Get in out of this rain, now. You'll get yourself sick." Uriel admonished, while Scout howled with laughter.

Scout kicked around in the huge puddle, splashing Uriel a good few times. Fuming, the angel tossed her silver hair out of her face and over her shoulder. She hated the fact that when it rained here, it poured. Would the clouds never give way to show the sun? Was there even a sun, here?

Over the small, stone-built wall lining the gravel road to the entrance to the temple, puzzled looking angels watched the young human, The Phoenix. A few had come to the wall at the sounds of howls and strange trilling, other just happened to be passing by. At first, some of them were confused, but as time passed, they seemed to become more and more amused. Especially when Uriel came out and chased the child around the muddy grove.

Scout tucked her head between her knees and rolled through the mud, circling Uriel's rigid figure standing in the cold rain.

"Would you stop that?!" Uriel hissed.

Scout spread eagle in the puddle before her. She swept her rigid arms and legs through the mud. "Uriel, do you know how old I am?" she asked in a low toned voice.

"Does it matter?" The angel asked through clenched teeth.

"Yes it does. I'm a sixteen year old kid. Technically a hundred-and-sixteen year old kid." Phoenix paused and hopped up, collapsing against Uriel's waist. The angel winced in disgust. Her nose wrinkled when Phoenix rose up and rested her her muddy, sodden arms around her neck.

"I'm a kid. "I'm having fun. Unless you can loosen up and at least have some fun with me, leave me alone so I can have fun. Don't you think, after all I've been through, that I deserve to have a little fun? Something to put a smile on my face and make me laugh?"

"Yes, but-"

Phoenix cupped both cheeks and planted a big kiss on Uriel's chin. Her face reddened as she heard a few of her fellow angels laughing at her.

"Then that settles it. I deserve to have fun. So either leave me be, or join me. Oh! That's an old human saying! If you can't beat 'em, join 'em!" Scout laughed and jumped in place, splashing more water everywhere.

Scout drew back from her and grinned. "And besides, it's fun! Did it ever rain in Heaven? Nope. I don't really like water, but, I gotta take what I got. Am I right?"

Uriel was silent. With a serious expression, she considered Scout's words. She suddenly remembered her youth, and how fun it was to play in the snow. It snowed frequently in Lostlight, and playing with her companions in the snow was the grandest of things.

She was suddenly aware of how stressed she was. These past hundred years have been no picnic for her, and adding the weight of her beloved Aboddon betraying her, and the destruction of her home made things worse. Pondering more on it, she felt that it would be a wonder to have some childlike fun again. Let yourself go, Uriel, and recall what it was like to be young again. Young and carefree. Let yourself do whatever comes to mind. Have fun. Be a child. You deserve it, after all.

Uriel smiled a sly smile. She punched Phoenix in the chest, knocking the wind out of her and knocking her back into a muddy puddle.. With a riot of laughter, Phoenix scrambled back up and leaped up on top of Uriel, tackling her tot he ground.

They wrestled like children, rolling through the water. After a dozen turns, Uriel looked like she had been in a fist fight. Scout it funny when the two sparred any other time, but this time, it really was play fighting. Except that they were all muddy and wet.

Scout made a wad of mud and made to throw it at Uriel, but she had averted her shot, and the mudball slat right into a bystander by the wall. There were a few gasps and some giggles among the group of angels at the wall. Some recoiled and wiped the mud from themselves. Uriel laughed and pointed to the man now mud-faced and shocked. She knew him as Ignatius.

In a quick movement, Ignatius leaped over the wall and gathered a fistful of mud, flinging it at Scout's shoulder. She squealed and laughed, retorting with a mud-missile of her own. Ignatius threw mud at Uriel too, and, seemingly having no shame at this point, other angels at the wall.

Uriel realized, while having a game of tag that involved more slipping and falling in the mud rather than actual progress, that she was actually having fun. Her laughter had changed. She was really, truly, having fun.

The crowd of laughing angels grew. The number of muddy angels in the grove nearly tripled in size by every passing minute. Scout chased other angels around. She threw herself up onto their broad backs, riding and howling with them until she was tossed off into the mud. Luke had lifted her up onto his shoulders and chased a few angels around while he and Scout made loud chicken noises.

They stomped through puddles and splashed one another. They chased each other. They ran around, cheering and wooping with primal glee; every single angel that appeared at the wall joined in on the fun. They jumped and laughed and pointed at angels passing by, pretending to ignore them.

The crowd of angels got to laughing so hard that they couldn't stand, and like a horde of drunks, they rolled on the ground, holding their sides. Uriel fell first to the laughter, and fell in the mud. Phoenix fell on her. Out of nowhere, Olivia fell on Phoenix. An angelic dogpile commenced.

Olivia sat on Phoenix's stomach, pinning her down as Uriel held her arms. Olivia tickled Phoenix under her arms and pinched her waist, making the human squeal with laughter.. Those angels never had so much fun in their lives.

Suddenly, Olivia was tackled from the side, sending her rolling away. Phoenix looked up. Ignatius grabbed her by her waist and hoisted her up onto his shoulders. Her arms circled his neck as she laughed, getting tears. She saw Azreal standing a good distance away. His cheeks puffed with attempts to halt his laughing.

Ignatius was shoved forward. Scout was torn from his shoulders by Roth and slid across the mud, causing several other angels to comically crash into each other. It reminded her of her earlier sparring with Uriel. It made her laugh. Olivia suddenly toppled on top of her. They wrestled, and Phoenix managed to overpower Olivia, rolling on top of her. Their laughter had a life all their own, somehow different from all of the other angels' laughter.

For the first time in forever, Phoenix was truly happy. Nothing else in the whole universe mattered right now, but this moment, this second. The people here, and the fact that they were all together somehow made all of the bad things go away for a moment. Especially now that she was with Olivia. She had completely forgotten about Vion, the guilt and loss of her brothers, her depression since her untimely resurrection, everything. She felt, somehow, that she was at peace. Olivia's smile made her heart swell with blithe. When her lips moved, mouthing that she loved her, she felt that she could die right then and there. Uriel's laughter made her want to cry, but out of happiness. Azreal's smile made her feel accomplished.

She had caused that smile to grace Azreal's stoic features. She had caused all of this, simply because she was happy.

Phoenix wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck and embraced her, rolling through the mud with her. She then lifted her head up and, without humiliation, kissed Olivia tenderly.

While sitting there in the mud, exhausted and out of breath, she taught Olivia a few songs she knew. Olivia professed that she loved the musical compositions of the group Scout called Journey, and when Scout started singing, she couldn't help but join angels that had listened to Scout's Classic Rock ballads a few times in the past joined in with the song. An all out angel choir.

_Just a small town girl_  
><em>Livin' in a lonely world<em>  
><em>She took the midnight train goin' anywhere<em>  
><em>Just a city boy<em>  
><em>Born and raised in south Detroit<em>  
><em>He took the midnight train goin' anywhere<em>

_A singer in a smoky room_  
><em>A smell of wine and cheap perfume<em>  
><em>For a smile they can share the night<em>  
><em>It goes on and on, and on, and on<em>

_Strangers waiting_  
><em>Up and down the boulevard<em>  
><em>Their shadows searching in the night<em>  
><em>Streetlights, people<em>  
><em>Living just to find emotion<em>  
><em>Hiding somewhere in the night<em>

_Working hard to get my fill_  
><em>Everybody wants a thrill<em>  
><em>Payin' anything to roll the dice<em>  
><em>Just one more time<em>  
><em>Some will win, some will lose<em>  
><em>Some were born to sing the blues<em>  
><em>Oh, the movie never ends<em>  
><em>It goes on and on, and on, and on<em>

_Don't stop believin'_  
><em>Hold on to the feelin'<em>  
><em>Streetlights, people<em>

_Don't stop believin'_  
><em>Hold on<em>  
><em>Streetlights, people<em>

_Don't stop believin'_  
><em>Hold on to the feelin'<em>  
><em>Streetlights, people<em>

She had no clue what she was doing, or why she was doing it, but it was a great moment to be doing it, whatever it was.

* * *

><p>Fury swallowed as she sat next to Ergo on a bench, watching the angels acting a fool in the grotto ahead. What fools those mortals be, starting things like that. Humans were hard to understand, so she thought. As weak as they were, they still had a great impact on the other two Kingdoms. Why, she felt she would never know, but they did.<p>

Ergo put a hand on Fury's bare shoulder. The webbing between her finger tickled her shoulder. When Fury looked over, she saw that Ergo's grey lips were smiling at her. She hadn't seen that motherly smile in so long. It was like seeing a beautiful eclipse over a monster's features. After all, that's all the Nephilim were, as far as the universe was concerned. Nephilim murdered worlds, put entire races to the sword and burned them to ash.

There were few, though, that shone the faintest glimmer of humanity among the darkness of their race. yes, ones such as Ergo, Kolo, and Penumbra. Those few who shone that they, in fact, did possess hearts. They thought of others than themselves, cared for others more so then their brothers. That very fact was shameful. It broke most other's hearts.

Sometimes, Fury felt as though darkness was sucking her mind into itself, and at the last second, there was light. She seemed to float back up in a cloud of despair, submission, and confusion, only to spiral back down again. She often lost track of who she was and what was going on, right in the middle of important events. Time passed around her while she wallowed in her own confusion and loss. Now, she was gripping her belt and the edge of the stone bench to keep from being flung off. There was no force to do so, though. She felt crazy sometimes, more so than any other madman. She thought she was insane.

She was feeling like that now; feeling like she knew who and what she was, desperateness trying to hold on to what she knew, only to be slowly spiraling back into her own perpetual darkness.

She felt Ergo's hand squeeze her shoulder. She blinked the rain from her eyes and looked over at her.

"I know you must be so confused, dear sister. But please don't worry too much about it. I am fine, as are the others. We are all okay, now, and we're going t get much better once we all fix this whole mess. Things will be the way they used to be, you'll see." Ergo said in a low toned voice, so not to sound to motherly or doting.

Fury became aware again, struggling, if not by the sounds of Ergo's voice, but by the look she was giving her, to put a small light back into her eye. So not to worry her elder sister. She realized that so much time had passed since her ties to the Charred Counsel were cut. Was she supposed to be free? She had no idea now. She didn't have a clue as to what was going on anymore. All she wanted, if she was honest with herself, was to go home.

She remembered suddenly, that the Nephilim had no home.

Ergo smiled again, a warmer one. She pulled Fury a bit closer, having her rest her head on the side of her scaly arm. It was warm. Fury took comfort in that. Ergo smoothed back Fury's hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I've missed you all, you know that?" She asked after what felt like an eternity of silence.

Fury almost couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. "I know I have missed you all... You said Phobia was alive, yes?"  
>Ergo made an agreeable sound in her throat. That was good enough for Fury.<p>

"How is she? I mean, the terrors? I remember that she had those all the time, even when she was awake."

Ergo made a small sound, like a low laugh, in her throat. "She is actually doing much better. Now that Absolom is long since dead, she has no more reason to fear for her life. She is just terrified of a lot of other, more smaller things." She said reassuringly.

Fury raised a brow. "Such as?"

"Well, you remember her awful fear of spiders, right?" Ergo said teasingly, to which Fury abandoned herself into a bout of laughter. The two became more conversant as the time went on, seemingly losing themselves in their words, as well as their pleasant memories. Fury wasn't the only one catching up with old siblings. If memory served her correctly, Fury saw Strife wander off with Phobia, Death was still inside with the Ebon Sai, Securii, and Kolo, and Vindictus was with War and some strange little child Fury had never seen before.

It seemed as though everyone was in such good spirits this day. Everyone but the Horsemen.

* * *

><p>Knocking her knees together, Karma faced War and waited for an answer. She had asked how it was that he was younger than Vindictus, but looked much older. It then came to her realization that it wasn't a very clever question she asked in the first place. She said she was sorry, but that didn't seem to matter to War. Vindictus told him he was being bitter, but War paid him no mind. He looked like he just didn't like Karma at all.<p>

_Well, fine_, she thought. _Be bitter towards me, but know this: you won't like what comes your way, should you get under my skin. Needed or not, I'll still teach you a lesson..._

Even still, she had yet to get to know the Horseman again. He would warm up to her again, she thought. She knew what she had to do: invoke as many positive prophecies as she could think of.

Thinking more of it, she looked sadly into her lap while he and Vindictus talked. What was she to do? She really only knew a few prophecies by heart. Like her father, she wasn't much of a reader. She wanted nothing more than to act, but she didn't know where to start. How was she supposed to make this mean old man warm up to her? She didn't even know what to say. She was certain, too, that after implying that he looked rather old for his age that she had gotten off at the wrong foot with him.

_Damn you, Karma, _she thought. _Why do have to mess things up like this?_

* * *

><p>Scout's arms windmilled as she was thrown back off of the marble platform. She tumbled back and was (thankfully) caught by War, who just so happened to passing by with Vindictus, who carried Karma on his shoulders.<p>

"Aww, man! Thanks buddie! You're the best!" Scout said with mock gratitude and mussed War's damp silver hair.

Saying nothing, war just dropped her on the cold, hard floor.

"What the hell was that?! After I said thanks and everything... Bitter old man..." Scout grumbled under her breath, but loud enough so that she knew the youngest Horseman could hear her.

"Phoenix, enough." Sabrina hissed a breath.

"Even still, I almost had it, then it was gone! How'd that happen?"

"I haven't a clue, my love." Sabrina retorted, rubbing Scout's shoulder where she landed. "I've tried everything I can think of, but nothing works for you. You're... unteachable." She glared at War for a moment before turning her attention down the opposite hall. More of the Nephilim were coming.

She had summoned all of the Horsemen along with their Exalted brethren to discuss the problem at hand. They were all to form a plan of action so as to stop this threat. That, and she really needed the help in getting Scout's powers to work properly.

"Am not! You were yellin' at me! I couldn't focus!"

"Don't you yell at me, I'm thinking!" Sabrina hissed.

Sabrina paced for a moment, surrounding eyes looming over her and the anteroom, since they had nothing better to look at.

"How did it feel when you tried to call forth the fire?" she asked as Scout shook herself off, dusting off her rear.

"I don't know. I was trying to call the fire into my hand, and it worked, but out of nowhere, i reached to get a better hold on it and it felt like falling on my face."

_"Try again."_ Securii said behind her.

Scout rolled her eyes and tried once more, closing her eyes and calming her breathing. She flicked her hand and snapped her fingers, trying to get some friction to get the fire going. Nothing but a spark happened. It was like trying to lean against something, but finding out too late that it wasn't there. Like falling on her face.

Securii shuddered and sneezed, casting a disapproving snort in Scout's direction. She sneered, sniffing the air, and leaped down off of the carved dragon pedestal in front of Phoenix. She sniffed around her and observed her, walking slowly in a circle around her. After a few more sniffs, she turned her back to Phoenix, glaring at Sabrina with those arresting grey eyes.

_"She isn't Exalted."_

Sabrina's eyes widened considerably. Her brow twitched. "What makes you think-"

_"I know she's not Exalted. Her aura has a different... perfume. The Exaltion is not there, but the power is."_ Securii said dismissively, screeching back up onto the high pedestal with her long claws and sitting herself back on top.

"That can only mean one thing..." Vindictus said as he rested her bearded chin thoughtfully in his hand.

"She must be a Terrestrial." Phobia finished. "Only a Terrestrial can have the power of a Primordial patron without the Exaltion. It's in her blood rather than in her soul."

Phoenix looked puzzled. "What's that mean?"

"Oh! I know!" karma's hand shot up into the air. "It means that your patron must be a member of your family, like your mother or your father."

She shook her head. "My parents are dead. They died in a fire when I was just a baby. You telling me an all-powerful Primordial can be taken out by a house fire?" she asked, mockingly etching her voice with concern.

"Of course not, love," Ergo retorted. "But they can hide away by such means."

"What do you mean?"

Sabrina took Phoenix by her shoulders from beside her. Suddenly, Scout didn't feel so good. This happened every time when brought up her past. She could suddenly feel everybody's eyes on her, watching her, capturing her in their gaze as she stumbled in her own weakness. She wanted to go to her room. Just to hide, just to get away from all of these people staring at her. She took comfort in Sabrina's gentle grasp on her shoulders, though.

"Come with me. We need to talk about something... Alone.

* * *

><p>Alistair walked nervously down the center of the huge anteroom. Only a couple of candles every other column lit his way, and still, the entire space was swallowed by darkness.<p>

Although he couldn't see it, he could smell the pungent stench of blood. As he walked further, he began to see small splatters of it, streaked across the floor. A few feathers sat in those larger puddles, sticky and wet with the blood. For a moment, he wished that he could have been there to watch. Or better yet, participate.

As he approached a raised platform of pink and grey granite, he crouched and bowed his head-

_"Praised be the Master of Shadows"_

Abrigor approached him, standing from a chaise on the darker side of the room. She wobbled at first, like a newborn fawn on untried legs, then straightened to her full height. The once burning amber flames on her head now flickered more red and black than fiery orange. Her glowing emerald eyes were rimmed with black, the whites of her eyes matching the sinister face held many rings, in her lips, nostrils, and a few on her brows. Almond eyes, delicate nose, and rounded cheeks made for a youthful appearance, which was nothing but appropriate for her. She was, in fact, one of the youngest demons to come into so much power in so little time, and was recognized for her success many times by the Dark One.

Under her shawl, she wore a very thin dress. She might as well have been naked before him. Her shape made Alitstair's mouth water. Her voice carrying his name sent his lust skyrocketing. He thought for a moment that her smile was for him, but knew already that it wasn't. It was the excitement and thrill out of her success. She had confronted the Dark Prince himself on her assigned test of the Shadow matter, and reported her success. The Primordial force worked exceptionally well. She was rewarded for it. Exceedingly well. Alistair guessed it was an extraordinary event for Abrigor, as well as for her fellow Shadow Wielders.

"Rise, my loyal one." she commanded in that sardonically sweet voice of hers. When he did, she came to him and ran a hand up his chest. With a single finger, she stroked the bottom of his chin.

"I... I want another one... Bring me another. I'm so close, I can almost taste it..." she mused.

"Of course, Master. Another man?"  
>"Yes. The one called Gabriel. He is next. The voices demand him, now."<p>

By the way she stood close, commanding his attention and the presence of another angel, he knew she was almost there. She almost had enough Grace to fully take on the Shadows. With a quick bow of his head, Alistair was off. He knew how impatient Abrigor was.

This was a perfect situation. There would be many pleasures to be had out of this, she thought. She would allow his screams to attract attention. Already, she drooled with the fantasies of what she would do to him.

She would let the lust of the Shadows take her.

When Alistair brought the angel, dismembered at the nodes, beaten, battered, she almost broke the skin of her bottom lip, she bit into it so hard.

"Master Abrigor," Alistair said, drawing out the words. "I have him here, Gabriel."

Abrigor rested a wrist on the arm of her elegant chaise. "Thank you, Alistair."

The angel swept the dark room frantically with those glowing blue eyes. Abrigor loved that look in his eyes. When Alistair forced him closer, the angel grunted and heaved with the mortal pain of it. She knew, now, that she would have to temper her lust, somewhat, with prudence.

She put one hand on the side of the angel's bloody face to keep his attention focused on her. Her other hand touched him below his stomach. She purred in satisfaction at what she felt.

"You, I will have a lot of fun with..." she said in a low, dark tone, teasingly as it seemed.

Alistair closed the double doors. The sounds of them creaking on their hinges as he did so echoed through the haunting silence of the room. She could almost see his eyes light up with terror. Those eyes made hers ignite with excitement.

"Gabriel... Archangel," she whispered, stroking her quivering arms as he lay, slightly against her left leg. "I must be the luckiest demon in all the Nine Hells..."

"You... You will pay for this..." the angel drawled lowly. :That is a ... Primordial force... Not some plaything for... your sick pleasure..."

"It's not?" she said, as if preparing to withdraw her torturous intent now that she had been told what she was doing was wrong. "Well, it looks like I'm in control of it, now."

"She will find you, demon..." Gabriel spat, coughing up blood into her lap. "You try to mask yourself now... But Fotis will find you... and she will make you... make you pay... You stole her Shadows from their resting place... and activated them without her consent... If the tales are true, she will make you suffer..."

"What a pity," Abrigor said with exaggerated remorse as she grabbed a fistful of the angel's silver hair. Her smile brought no warmth. In fact, it looked like the smile of a snake, the way her wet black lips curled like that.

It was dark in the room, almost too dark to see, but the light from their eyes provided enough light to see a little bit. I was just dark enough that she could see what she was doing. Demons could see better in the dark than angels could in the light. It was just dark enough so the voices would leave her be. The sounds of the Darkness would often torment her, demanding their release, demanding her soul, but she fought them tooth and nail so as to keep them all at bay. Sometimes, it seemed like this was more than her small shoulders could take. She proved herself wrong, though. She handled the Shadows so well, she even found that she could sleep without them tormenting her. She just had to stay in the pitch dark, as well as listen to what the voices asked of her. It soothed the Shadows to the point of lying dormant. This was one of those moments.

Gabriel shook while she fumbled with his belt. He could see her smile in the pitch darkness, and it made him sick. As attractive as she was, it sickened him. He watched as she reveled in his details: his hair, the sent of his blood, sharp nose, and his blue eyes. He was common, so she thought, less than a woman of her stature was used to. But, he had his own pleasures to offer. He listened carefully as he watched. he had no idea how much his terror made her heart swell with a delight so sick, only a demon could possess it.

Abrigor planted a kiss on the base of his neck as she tugged open his trousers. It wouldn't be long, now. She wouldn't want it to take too long, lest she lose control. But, she did want to relish as much of this angel's suffering as she could in the cloak of the darkness.

Before she slid his trousers any further, she looked up into his glowing blue eyes. Her smiled mocked him. "Your Grace comes from the heart, but right now, there's another organ I need to get a hold of, first..."

While she smiled at him, before she had time to do anything else, her other hand rose up, on its own accord, and gripped his neck. Gabriel's eyes squeezed themselves shut. The way he did so made Abrigor laugh aloud at his innocence. The way his neck was tilted was perfect.

The chocking sounds he made was enough to make her snicker. She didn't want to crush the life out of him, though. She wanted to savor his suffering as long as she could.

"I'm gonna make you last a long time~ I promise..." she breathed into his ear, giving it a nip.

She rose up onto her knees, the thin dress and shawl slipping off of her smooth shoulders. Atop her head, the flames were wild with her lust. She bent his head back over her thigh and waited for his eyes to come open. When they didn't, it made her angry.

In a fluid motion, she lost control of her fist again, breaking the angel's jaw. Howling in pain and rage, Gabriel sprang forward. He saw a flash of red and dodged to the side as he swept a leg beneath the demon, taking her feet from under her. It all happened in a blink. It was a wonderful even, this glorious, raging bull charging madly.

She pulled in all of his details: his clothes, the small rip in the torso of his ivory tunic, the gash over his left eye, the nick missing from his left ear, the way he flopped when her boot landed between his shoulders. It was when she was twisting his arm behind his back that she felt the blood. Blood was something she kept very careful track of. This blood surprised her. She hadn't cut Gabriel- yet. Now was this blood from his crushed jaw.

She rarely had the thrill of surprise that this unexpected blood brought.

She realized Gabriel was screaming in pain. He screamed louder when the shoulder joint popped. She dropped onto the angel's back and smacked his head with the heel of her hand. She then grabbed the matted hair into her fist and pulled his head back, listening to the sounds of his grunts.

"That was a mistake, angel. I think you need to learn some respect..."

"You're going to lose, bitch," The angel burbled. "I saw the Ebon Sai... She was... with Death... The Consummation is complete..."

Abrigor stared at him. She didn't believe it. This angel had to be lying. Death, and the Ebon Sai? Together? **_NO._**

"Bitch, eh? Such language... But, you are mistaken. She would never have chosen Death, of all creatures. Surely the Angel of Death is to her liking." she unknowingly referenced the branch of prophecy she was hoping for.

"You're wrong, demon... I have read the prophecies... You are slowly falling, and you don't even realize it..." he said in a low, rumbling laughter.

Abrigor suddenly panicked. In a fit of rage, she quickly slit the angel's throat, flipping him onto his back and planting her hand onto his chest, drawing his Grace out through his heart.

_**"**WE WILL_ _PREVAIL!" _she screamed, holding the angel down as he cried out and flailed against her.

Danger, death, and damage- all in one night, in one chance encounter. This was nearly too much.

She was the fulfillment of their lives. She was the balance. She was death. Abrigor savored seeing the awareness in their eyes. She liked it best when she could bask in that look, that knowledge... that terror. It brought her fulfillment. It made her complete.

Abrigor lifted her hand, curling her golden glowing fingers, and threw her claws into Gabriel's chest, digging through the flesh, into the chest cavity. Swiftly, she swept the quintessence of death from his chest and into the air, pulling it back to herself.

The heart still beat rapidly in her hand.

She sat there, straddling the dead angel, swaying in ecstasy at the cloying sent of blood. She regretted that it hadn't lasted longer. She regretted not being able to enjoy his prolonged screams. Screams were rapture. She craved them, needed them, lusted after them. Screams fulfilled her, made her whole. She need them, if not the actual sound- she often times gagged her partners- but what they represented: terror. Being denied to the chance to leisurely enjoy the screams left her unsatisfied.

Now, she had another plan. She needed to pay an old friend a visit. A very important visit.

* * *

><p>Asleep, Scout was surprised by the sudden weight on the bed beside of her. A hand rubbed her back in slow circles. It was a familiar touch, the kind that made her blush. She rolled over onto her other side, unknowingly facing the person, whoever it was. Her eyes were made to flutter open. Someone was blowing in her face. She hated that.<p>

What she saw next shocked her out of her skin.

Sitting in young almond-shaped sockets, bright green eyes stared back at her. Red hair framed a flawless cast of fair and soft features. Thick, dark glossed lips pulled back, exposing a fine white smile. Her creamy flesh was tinted pink at the cheeks, giving her an even more innocent look to her. Those eyes made Scout's heart flutter. This was not a nameless face.

"A-Adagio?" Phoenix murmured in disbelief.

The thin girl rose up, propping herself up with her elbow. "Here there, Chicken. Miss me?" She grinned, a more mischievous smile this time, and rubbed Scout's shoulder with her other hand. She had long, blood red nails filed to a sharp point. "I thought you might, so I figured I'd pay you a visit."

Scout jumped up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She stared in stupor at the girl, trying to fit what she was seeing with what she knew. "But... You're dead. You have to be dead." She stuttered.

Adagio rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. If I was a human, like everyone else on Earth, I would be. But we're special, you and I..." She whispered, gracefully coming to a seated position on the bed beside of Scout. "We're not human..."

When she said that, her eyes flecked over to the huge vanity on the side of the room opposite to her. Scout's eyes followed. She was none too pleased at what she saw.

Green eyes glowed out from a blackness so eerie, it made Scout shiver. Orange skin clung to a shapely figure, covered in the satin nightclothes Adagio wore. Although conspicuous in appearance, she still cut a terrifying figure. Black lips grinned, hiding what looked like two rows of razor sharp teeth. She sat with one arm over her hip, the other holding her head up as she lay on her side. In the mirror, flames rolled and licked at her fingertips while beside of her, Adagio played with a ringlet of long, crimson hair.

Phoenix jumped off of her bed, and in a movement almost too quick to catch, her sword exploded from the scabbard. The ring of the weapon hung in the air for a moment. Her attention was immediately honed on the monster before her, all in the blink of an eye. Adagio looked genuinely surprised.

"I remember you." Scout said in a low toned hiss.

"Now, Phoenix, there's no need for violence. I'm not really here. This is just the bond I embedded in your mind acting here. It's making you see me. Why, you ask? Well, when you and I made love, I managed to leave an imprint on your ind so that I wouldn't be forgotten. therefore, the bond wouldn't break, so I'd have you at my beck and call whenever and wherever I wanted to." she drawled, low and menacing in tone.

"You bitch! I trusted you!"

The demoness looked genuinely surprised. "A bitch, eh? Well, I would never... Alright, perhaps I would, but just know, you started it."

Scout's brow twitched in frustration. How could she act so childish about this? She fixed the demon with an intense stare while she mulled things over. The way Adagio smiled at her made her guess she thought she was funny. She wouldn't be laughing soon. Adagio, knowingly, was amused by the way Scout stared at her. She looked like she was mimicking War. It was a good try, but not as intimidating as it would have been had she not known Phoenix.

"I know, so sad, but it's nothing personal, that's just what happens when you work with a demon." Adagio said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Even still, I have a question for you," she egged on, standing from the bed. When the sword rose to meet her throat, she shoved it away with a finger. "I want to ask about Death."

Scout gnashed her teeth. "What about him?" she growled.

"Who is he with, here? Like you were with me a while back; who is he with?" Adagio hummed.

"He's with Sabrina. What does it matter to you?"

"The Ebon Sai?"

"Yeah. Why's it matter?"

A look of panic faltered the demon's features for a moment. She looked like she was about to scream. In her mind, she was screaming, as were the voices. They cursed her failure, cursed her. They threatened her madly, crying for her to redeem herself. The way her eye twitched made her have the look of a crazed person. She was crazy, in Scout's opinion.

"You..." The demon's tone of voice went from menacing to downright devious. Her eyes carried the fury of the devil himself, it seemed. Her frown was vindictive. She stared the little blonde thing down with those eyes. "You're a liar..."  
>"No, I'm not. I'll ask again," Scout rose the sword up again, this time nicking the demon's long neck. "Why's it matter to you who he's with?"<p>

Adagio seemed to lose it. Her eyes flecked all over, her lips quivered. "This can't be happening..." She said as she curled her hands into her hair and tugged on it. She looked like she was loosing her mind. Her eyes were wet with tears. They grew in terror at the realization, the remembrance of what the prophecies had said about this: _The BloodBorn Reapers will alter their fate, thus ensuring the spark of the Life Fire in the hearts and minds of the Flames around them._

"This isn't over, Phoenix! No child is to be conceived of their union! I'm putting a stop to this, one way or another!" She pulled something out of her shirt and threw it at Scout, screaming through gritted teeth. "Like I said before. You and I aren't human. You're a _freak_ just like me. Ask Azreal... He'll tell you..."

In a flurry of flames and darkness, Abrigor was gone.

Scout was alone again, and on the floor before her, sat a small golden locket, embellished with hearts and flame patterns. The sight of it made her heart skip a beat. How Abrigor could've gotten it, she would never know, but she had it. That thing there was the only thing Phoenix ever had of her mother's. She had it, God, she had it...

Abrigor had her mother's necklace.


	16. A New day

**Author's Note: okay, let me just say that none of this would be possible if it wasn't for my two favorite things: my boyfriend, (love you Morgan! ^3^) and lots of pot! #HigherStateOfMind**

**Not to mention, all of the people who happened to fave this and wtch me! it really means a lot to me as a starter!**

**Thanks you guies, you're da best!**

* * *

><p>Night was just beginning to melt into a new dawn, the rain never giving way to reveal a sun, if there were one, but seemingly less bent on pouring down in torrents as it normally did. As of now, the rain floated down in small droplets of cool, crystalline prisms. Some of it splattered and trickled in through the cracks in the open windows and onto the marble floors, but it was never any trouble moving around. The small moats in the baseboards of the floor took care of that. The all led to spillways outside of the walls and out into the gravel. Karma was glad that it did, because then, it wouldn't make her bare feet so cold.<p>

Knowing Atrocor and Zodiac weren't here, she found herself thinking about them a lot more. She convinced herself that she had no reason to be worried about them, though. She missed home, though. She missed it, not because it was a happy place, she knew all too well that there were more people dying from the Sickness when she left then there had ever been before, but she missed it because it was home. This gloomy place was cold to her. Cold and frightening. She was someplace she didn't know, and she could never go home again.

Karma suddenly felt very lonely. With Atrocor, she always felt comfort in his confidence. With Zodiac, she was always in order and always knew what to do so to stay on top of things. Even people. But with War, she had always felt like she was being guided. War always knew where he was going, what he was doing. He never seemed to have any doubts. Karma had lots of them, especially now that she was alone in the dark corridor.

She missed War more than home, and he was right in his room. She knew, though, that she would have to wake him up for this. He had to see it. It was the biggest part of the plan, so far.

She wrapped the small grey shawl tighter around herself as she approached his door. The black marble floors grew colder against her feet with every step she took. Gently, she knocked against the black panel in the center of the jade and sapphire molding. She waited a moment, then knocked again.

"War?" she called softly.

She knocked and called his name once more. When still no answer came, she cracked the door open and peeked inside. Only a few candles lit the dim room.

War's huge shape was seemingly wrapped in the heavy grey blankets. He lay on his back, his left arm draped over his forehead, snoring loudly. Karma stood at the door, watching him quietly. She was worried that she might say or do something wrong, something to upset him. She didn't want him upset. She recalled the first time she had approached him, and how tolerant he was of her. She might be a bit rambunctious, but he was still tolerant of her.

Now that she thought more on it, War didn't really get angry at her. She knew he was the one with the shortest temper, but he didn't seem as such when she was with him. He did seem a bit agitated at being the only one Karma had any real interest in, and knowing him, he probably didn't want anything to do with a Trickster he didn't know. She knew him, though. She knew he wasn't cheery, but he wasn't a total monster.

She called his name again, getting nothing but more loud snoring. She tiptoed over to his bedside and crawled up onto him. She sat on his chest and lightly shook his shoulder.

"War? Psst~ War?" she whispered so not to shock him out of his sleep. When War lifted his arm and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. One pale blue and one honeydew green eye both blinked up at him as the figure with those arresting eyes scooted back a bit. The weight on his chest was far too light to be Eris, so he thought. He knew then, that it was the little one, the Trickster.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" he asked. To him, his voice sounded like rocks being poured from a bucket. To Karma, he sounded sick. Sick and upset. Already, she was failing.

"No, I just wanted to show you something. You aren't upset are you? I'm not bothering you, am I?" she asked, trying to make herself seem as respectful as she could without being too timid.

War waved away her concern and scooted her over to the opposite side of the bed, sitting himself up. "No, no..."

"Well, I was wondering, could you... would it be alright if I showed you something? You'll be pleased, I'm sure of it."

War just nodded and placed his forehead in his hands for a moment. Karma shuffled over and slid off of the tall bed. Thunder crashed outside. If she didn't hurry, the rain would get worse, and her magic might fail. Still, it felt good to have War near again.

Looking over, she thought that he looked depressed. About what, she wouldn't have a clue, but she knew that look. The way he held his face in his hands so that people couldn't see his eyes was a signature sad look. Death had that look a lot. Possibly where War learned it from.

She put a hand on his knee, looking up at his face. "War? You don't look well." she murmured.

He made a rumbling sound deep in his throat. She was afraid she was pestering him too much.

"War," she said, moving her head between his elbow, getting a tiny peek at his grim face. Loud and steady thumping filled her ears, she was so close to his chest. "Are you upset about something, War? You look it." She looked up again and saw that he looked very tired. And old. He looked very old. But she didn't dare say it out loud.

He laid one of his big hands on her back, but didn't shove her away. He rubbed her back in a small circle. A surprising move, so she thought. "I am just tired. Very tired..." he drawled lowly, as if trying to keep his words just between him and her. Standing up with his hand still on her back, she looked up into his eyes. They looked so much like her own.

"Are you too tired to walk, sir? I could show you here, but I'd have to open the window." She said in that sweet little voice of hers.

His hands lowered. He squinted, a puzzled frown at her, rather than his normally perpetual one. "Why would you need to open a window, Karma? What are you thinking on doing?" he asked.

She smiled, taking one of his hands in both of hers.

"Come with me and I'll show you. It's nothing troublesome, sir, I promise. You'll be pleased." She said cheerfully, trying to smile nicely for him.

He seemed reluctant at first, like he didn't believe her. She tried to look so that she would be believable, but not too innocent. Otherwise, he might not come. She needed him to see this, it had to be him. When War suddenly moved to stand before her, she again, felt like she was starting to doubt herself. Still, he went with her.

She took his hand, pulling his groggy weight along as she tried to hurry down the the anteroom, to where the pretty fountain was. That was the perfect place, she thought. She knew it was the very second she entered this temple. The way the dome-shaped roof had that great big hole in its center, it was just the right size. And, the rain was still falling quite gently.

When at last the reached the anteroom, Karma's first act of utter craziness was leaping into the fountain, which War knew was filled with bitterly cold rainwater. She looked up, standing there int eh rain, and watched the clouds for a moment.

War pinched his brows together, shutting his eyes. "This better not be what you wanted to show me..."  
>"Nonono!" She squeaked. "This is just where I needed to be, sir! You'll be pleased, I promise!"<p>

Her fingers worked, twiddling around with idly shimmering light. A small golden orb misted forth, growing in size while Karma's hands whirled and twirled around it. She looked up and over at War again, a smile tightening her features. "Today, there's gonna be light, War. You'll be pleased, just like I promised."

War squinted again, folding his arms and watching, with a great interest. "I'm not so sure about that."

She smiled wider, and cast the glimmering ball up into the hole in the roof, shooting into the sky with a shrill whistle. Golden sparkles of light fizzled as it erupted into the clouds, sizzling and pulsing with light, instantaneously spreading through the sky above. The air around hummed with the the magical sounds of creation, and through it all, Karma's adorable laughter echoed through the empty room.

She threw her hands into the air, fingers spread, casting more sparkles into the air while she laughed. "This is going to be amazing!" she beamed, splashing and running in circles in the waters in excitement. "The sun's gonna come out, War! You'll see it! You'll be pleased!"

War looked up into the ominous clouds above. Dim light came from beyond the. He took a careful step forward. Like a wick on a lamp being slowly turned up, the dim light coming from behind the clouds brightened. He took another step forward, and it brightened even more.

He scanned the clouds as he mentioned Karma forward. Whatever magic this child had used, War knew, was magic she shouldn't be capable of. By Death's account of this world, there was no sun here. He mulled that fact over while Karma waded over to him.

He put both of his hands on her tiny shoulders when he knelt down. "Karma, how did you do that?"

"I used magic, sir. How else do you think I did it?" she smiled. "I told you I could do it! Are you pleased?"

"I- That's impossible. That magic was the magic of Creation. Actual Creation. Far too powerful for any Trickster of your age to be conjuring on your own."

Karma's smile widened. The look in her eyes reminded him of Eris; the way they narrowed and looked up from under her little silver brows. the way they looked like she knew something he didn't, and loved the fact that he was lost to the fact. More than anything, they looked like mischief. Her timidity was long since gone, replaced by what War could only tell was sheer blithe. It seemed as though her previous doubts were all withdrawn since there was going to be sun.

War turned his head as the huge door down the long corridor swung open suddenly.

Fury came storming out, eyes wild. "Did you see that?! That explosion?" she called after War.

Strife was heeled after her. "Even if he didn't see it, Creation knows he would ave heard it." he grumbled, not even bothering to keep up with his sister as she broke into a run after War.

"It was a magical firework, Fury!" Karma said in that sing-song tone of hers, staring at War with that devious smile. She gave that look to Fury, stopping her in her tracks. "I made the sun come out."  
>Strife laughed aloud. "There is no sun to this world, little fool. There's no way you could have-" his words trailed off as War brought him to look in to the sky, to which his jaw ultimately dropped at the sight.<p>

Fury winced as golden shafts of sunlight beamed into her eyes.. It reflected off of the pool, dappling in Fury's hair and along the ceiling. It had been so long since she had seen the sun, so her eyes weren't used to the sudden brightness. Her eyes had gotten so used to this dull world, that the light hurt her eyes.

Looking down again, she saw the little Trickster smiling, proudly to say the least. Fury knew about Tricksters. When they smiled, it was never a good thing. Never. Although cute, Fury didn't trust that smile one bit. Something was up, she could feel it in the pit of her gut. This little monster had a plan, but she had no clue whether it was good or bad. Tricksters had a very bad tenancy to cause trouble, even when they have good intentions. No matter how benevolent a Trickster's intent may seem, they always find their way into trouble. Sometimes more than they can handle on their own.

At least the smile was cute.

The glass spheres in the iron cased chandeliers and the ones set atop green marble pedestals against the walls to the left and right, came to light as the Ebon Sai strode into the anteroom. Her black nightdress floated behind her like a wave of pitch black sea, whispering along with her light footfalls on the marble floors.

"What's going on? It's bright out." she asked.

Karma giggled and jumped around in the pool. "I raised the sun, Ebon Sai!" she cheered. "I used magic!"

A raven brow rose over icy blue eyes."You... created a sun?"

Karma smiled and nodded.

Sabrina folded her arms, smiling. She placed her forehead in her hand and said something indistinct to herself. When she next spoke, her voice drifted through the room. "And just what is a child like you doing invoking prophecy?"she drawled lowly enough to keep only this knot of people in earshot. The Horsemen looked astonished.

Karma's grin mimicked Sabrina's, as well as he tone of voice. "That's what I'm here for, ma'am. I'm just helpin' out; supporting my local unlucky ones." She grinned that Trickster grin again. "There are things in the dark here that should come out so we can see them. Maybe we'll see 'em and learn something..." She said, grinning even more.

With a hand, War lifted the little Trickster out of the pool and over the tall wall of the fountain. He had to shake her off of him to get her to let go, and even that was in vain. She looked giddy, too giddy, he thought. This hyperactive Trickster had a lot of explaining to do. Even still, she was happy with her success. This just might take a turn for the better.

_If the Proxie Magdna should bring light to the Shaurna's endless rain, the Firebird will emerge and perch itself on the hearts of those who see it. Its song will purge out the hate in their hearts, and fill them, instead, with hope. The Firestorm will turn the tides on the coming war._

* * *

><p>Scout covered her mouth as she yawned. She had fallen asleep after her standoff with Abrigor, but didn't remember laying back down. She found she was still clutching her mother's locket in a vice hold. It was closed now, so she opened it and stared at the photo inside. She felt herself start to cry again. Although Abrigor's words and threats still echoed in her mind, she was still to drowned by the image of her mother and father before her.<p>

She wondered why they left her so soon. No, they couldn't have seen the house fire coming, but it could have been prevented, somehow. She knew that much. They looked so good, so happy.

She sat there and stared at the photo of them for a long while. She stared at her mother's beautiful freckled face, the soft and lush fall of her burning red hair, her shimmering orange eyes. She looked to have been a wonderful woman. Her mother's freckled arms were wrapped around a man's neck. Her father, no doubt. She knew what she looked like, and she knew that she shared a lot of this mans features: the shapes of his eyes, nose, and smile. She had his smile, that was for sure.

His hair was a long, voluminous blonde, falling straight against his broad shoulders. His eyes were a stark azure blue. He looked to be of average height, but stout. She thought his long blonde hair suited his brawn. She couldn't imagine him with any other color hair. It would diminish his charm.

For some damn reason, a question roamed and rolled around through her head. Why would her parents just up and leave her? House fire or not, why did she make it out alive? How could it had happened? Her mind spun with the thoughts of what might have gone wrong. Somehow, she thought it was her fault. No clue why, though. How could she have known something like that was to happen? She was just a baby.

The creak of the door opening alerted Scout, wrestling her from her thoughts. She didn't hear anyone knock, probably since she wasn't paying any attention to it. She spun in her bed and faced the cause of the noise, relieved to see that it was Azreal. He came in smiling, that same smile he always gave her when he saw her. The smile that said he was here to see if she was alright. She and Azreal always got along just fine, better than that. He was like her best friend.

Quickly, she thought, he mustn't know we are here! Don a clever disguise to throw him off! Perhaps then we can throw him off! With this silly thought in mind, she quickly tossed the fine gold chain around her neck, rolling herself over the edge of her bed, onto the hard marble floor. Under her bed she found a small hat, given by Ignatius for some damn reason. She put it on. There were a few other things under her bed, too. She she reached further back and pulled out her glasses.

God, she hated these glasses. She only needed them for reading, and she always got teased for wearing them. She never guessed why, but she always thought that wearing them made her look silly. her brothers never thought she looked just fine in them, but after all of the scorn she got for wearing them, she thought to never wear them again unless absolutely necessary. Now, was the time.

Under her bed was also a paintbrush. A paintbrush? Not in her eyes. To Scout, it was a makeshift pipe.

Fucking perfect. She rolled out from under her bed and pulled her red tunic up over her head, wrapping it around herself, over her shoulders. She looked to be hiding her entire upper torso. She stared at Azreal. He stared back. His face looked... puzzled. At last, after a moment of very awkward silence, he pointed at her.

"Phoenix... Why? Why would you... Why?" he drawled lowly.

_DAMMIT__! CLEVER DISGUISE FAILED! ABORT! ABORT!_

Without a second thought, she threw off the tunic and spit out the paintbrush, frowning at him through her glasses. Azreal thought she looked so adorable with those things on. They made her eyes more brighter, so he thought. Even still, she looked angrily at him. He knew he had done nothing wrong, but she was staring at him. That intimidating and perpetual frown. Why was she looking at him like that?

"I thought I had you there for a moment..." Phoenix said, flopping onto her bed and removing her glasses. She set them beside of her hip and groaned, looking up at the ceiling. Azreal couldn't help himself but smile. She was so adorable.

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't know it was you?" he narrowed his eyes at her. "Really?"

She rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder at him. "What gave me away?"  
>"The freckles."<br>Her face screwed up when she spun around and faced him. He just smiled out of the corner of his mouth. Smug motherfucker. Even still, she enjoyed seeing that smile. He didn't smile too often, and since she was so great at reading folks, she could tell he was always depressed and guilty. At what, she had no clue. She would find out eventually, though. She knew that much. She was the so called Phoenix, he couldn't hide his baggage from her for long.

"What brings you here, Azreal?" she asked as she pulled her hair over her shoulders and turned in her bed to face him.

He strode over and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. "The sun is out."

"I know. Olivia and I saw it this morning. I didn't think this world had a sun."

"It doesn't." Azreal said, reclining a bit beside her. Se was so tempted to reach over and play with his wings, doing whatever came to mind. She had done that to Olivia, and found that angel's wings were very, _very _ticklish. All she wanted now was to get every angel she knew to scream at her, telling her to stop her stupid tricks. She loved doing that, but she found that with some angels, it wasn't as funny as she thought it would be. For example, Uriel was none too happy about her little prank.

"Then, how is the sun out?" Scout asked, laying on her stomach at Azreal's side.

"We have a Prophecy enforcer among us. And it's who we lest expected. You know that little girl who mysteriously showed up here a few days ago?" He asked knowingly.

"Yeah, the little thing with the rocks in her face?" Scout gave a laughing nod. "Yeah, I seen her. She looks a lot like War, don't she?"

Azreal laughed, shaking his head. Silver locks fell this way and that while he did so. "That's it, my dear. She's the Proxie Magdna. The one spoken of in the prophecies. She created a sun for this world, and it successfully shone through today."

Phoenix blinked. "What's a Proxie Magdna?"

"A Proxie is a creature who shares both Nephilim and Trickster blood. There have been a few of them in the past, but they posed a threat to the Balance because of their masterful abilities in controlling the current of events, often times bending them to play out to serve their own ends. A Proxie Magdna is much, much worse. Magdna means that the Proxie is a gifted Exalted. A Magdna is almost always a girl, and she will always have more Nephilim in her blood than Trickster, outweighing her normal power in the first place. She could have any patron, making her all the more dangerous." he explained.

"So... Where'd she come from?" Scout asked, picking up a brush on the grey nightstand beside of her bed. She listened to Azreal as she ran the brush through her thick hair, tugging out the tangled and somewhat matted locks.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she came here using Chronospheres, a time-traveling means of travel. I personally think that she might have come to us from another time, the future, perhaps. I honestly don't know. She does, however, remind me much of the Horseman, War... That troubles me greatly..." Azreal's words trailed off when he caught sight of Scout's twisted look.

"You... Wait, you think she might be..." she paused and scratched her head. "You seriously think she's his? Really?"

Azreal just shrugged, taking a deep breath and waving the question off. "I'm not saying it. I'm just saying she looks and acts just like the man. In many ways, I think my statements are true."

Phoenix grinned, tracing her fingers along the delicate gold chain holding her mother's locket. She gave a private smile at the feeling of the familiar thing around her neck. The safety it made her feel was almost like her mother was right there with her.

Almost.

Azreal hooked a finger around the thin gold wire. "What's this?" he asked. She remembered that he had probably never seen this around her neck. But, the way he looked at the locket was as if he had seen it somewhere before.

She felt the locket between her thumb and forefinger. "It's my mom's necklace. It was hers I still have." She shrugged, opening the tiny locket. She held it up so Azreal could see it.

"That there's my mom, and my dad. On the other side is me, when I was a baby." She pointed as she spoke. It was then that she noticed how sick Azreal looked. He looked scared, and sick. Really sick, like he would throw up.

He stared at the image for a long while, taking it in his own hands. These were not nameless faces.

"Scout," he said softly, putting an arm around the child's strong shoulders. "there's- we... We need to talk... I have... something that must be addressed. But I can only do so if you promise not to lose your temper with me."

Scout's face scrunched together. She blinked up at him, wearing him down with those big cinnamon eyes. He couldn't stand to look at those big, sad eyes sometimes. They gnawed at his very being. That, and their origin. He knew when he received word from Michael before the fall of Heaven that there would be some things that Scout would have to learn before she could find out who and what she really was; that there would have to be time before she discovered this information critical to her development as the hero. She was learning to tame the fire as of now, but things around them were all happening so quickly. Too quickly.

He had no idea how he would tell her, though.

He knew she would ask him why she would lose her temper with him, and when she did, his answer seemed as though it took him forever to summon the words. He almost couldn't do it. __She is the key to determining the ultimate fate of the Three Kingdoms, and now, that blade is hers. Give it to her. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone else, not even her.__ Michael's voice screamed in his mind. Now was the time, he thought. She could take it all much better now. Now, she was more collective, more older. She was no longer so emotionally distraught about her human family's deaths as well as her own. Now, surely now, she was ready.

"Scout," he sat up with her, having her sink into the bed beside of him. God, he didn't even know where to start. "Scout, you said your parents died in a house fire when you were an infant?"

"Yeah. I still have no idea how I managed to be dragged out of there. They all said that the fire started in my nursery, but there wasn't a scratch on me. Weird, huh?" she asked. "I guess it may have something to do with this whole Phoenix thing, but who knows."

Azreal's mouth felt like a desert. His insides were in turmoil. Was there something in his throat? He was sure there was. It felt like something was clamping his windpipe shut, forbidding the words to come out, forcing him to choke on his own remorse. Maybe he should have told her sooner, like the moment she entered the White City. That would've been a more appropriate time. But, he had to bring it up now.

"I know." he said, as if to himself.

Phoenix stared at him. She didn't understand what that meant, he knew this. But he knew she would ask him of it, and he would have to tell her.

"I know, because I knew... I knew your father."

Azreal shared her long look, frowning. His voice never seemed so weak to him. She looked like she was stabbing him to death with those eyes, now angry as it seemed. Her eyes looked to have caught fire, lit from within by a flame of wrath unfathomable. In fact, they did look more orange, now that he looked hard enough.

"You knew him?" She asked, in a low voice. That there frightened Azreal even more. "My father, you knew him?" she asked when he silently answered his last question.

"Your father... he wasn't a human, Scout. Neither are you. I'm sorry, and I should have told you about this sooner, but I was weary of your reaction. We... needed you to settle yourself in dealing with the deaths of your brothers before we piled on even more things like this..."

"Things like what?" she asked. Those eyes, God, those eyes. "What are you talking about? You said you knew my father, and that he's not human? How? What is he then? What am I?"

"Phoenix, none of this will be easy for you to hear, but it is the truth. Your father was one of my closet friends; he was like a brother to me. I loved him, as did he to everyone else. He was like the father to everyone." The choking feeling in Azreal's throat threatened to bring forth tears. "Your father is Michael. An archangel."

Phoenix stared. Azreal stared. Neither said a word. Thousands of things ran through Scout's head. Things she didn't even know that would come to mind. That stupid garden she saw on the outskirts of the White City with Olivia when she was first recovering from the HeartStone incident. Passion vine; Texas sage; Indigo spires salvia; Confederate jasmine; Royal cape plumbago; Arica palm; Pygmy date palm; Snow-on-the-mountain; Pink powderpuff; Datura; Crinum lily; St. Christopher's lily; Silver dollar eucalyptus; White african iris; Katie's charm ruellia; Variegated shell ginger; Florida coontie; Ming fern; Sword fern; Dianella; Walking iris; Chocolate cherries allamanda; Awabuki viburnum.

_Stop it_, she kept telling herself, _focus on what's happening around you! _She guessed that things like this go through her head when she is confused.

"How do you know this?" She asked, trying to speak past the lump in her throat.

"I was there." he said.

Phoenix could feel her heart leap up into her throat when he said that. Her mind raced, and yet it was completely blank at the same time. She felt like the room was suddenly spinning. "You were there?" She managed to stutter past her shock.

"Yes, I was there. When you were born, I bore witness to it."

"And... you never told me?"

"No."

"Why?"

Azreal looked grim. "Because Micheal asked me not to. At first, he wanted you more than anything. He and your mother loved you; they adored you. As did many others, including myself. But, unfortunate events led to the confirmation that you were not safe with them. At first, Michael told me, should something happen to him, you needed to be protected. He appointed me as your first Guardian."

"So, you're like a godfather, something-or-another?"

Azreal raked his hair back. He looked as though he wasn't sure what she meant. "If that is what you call it, then yes... But after... after what happened to you,, I was told to avoid you completely; to stay away from earth and to protect you that way. We persuaded the Archons to give us a way to close off any other teleportational laylines that led to Earth, so to further ensure your safety." he paused and looked at his reflection in Scout's eyes. He saw every line, every crease and small feature he knew his guilty face possessed.

"Why?" she nearly shouted, flailing her arms as she spoke. "What the literal _fuck?!_" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Language." Azreal growled back. He hardly ever spoke in such a tone.

"Sorry. But, even still, you have to... You have to at least tell me what they were like." She said.

Her eyes carried almost no sorrow for some reason. Still, she was right, and she knew he knew it too. After all she'd been through, he felt in his heart that she deserved to know. It would help to know that none of this was really her fault, but in fact, an unfortunate chain of events. Mulling this fact over, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. When he next spoke, his voice was horse, as if he were on the verge of losing it all.

"Phoenix, your father was my best friend. Michael was our leader, our brother. he looked after us all; took care of us. he was a wonderful man. He was just like you." As he said this, he looked into her eyes again. Indeed she was. A brave, noble, courageous leader who put the care and wellness of her family before herself. She, like her father before her, was a true hero.

"Now, your mother was the more temperamental type. She was wise, as a woman of her standing should be, but she wasn't without her sense of humor. She wasn't what I expected out of an omniscient goddess. She actually saw me as a friend, not as a lesser being. She could make even the most worldly of demon lords bite their tongues and blush with what she had to say. And many a time, she did. Her words could sting, much like your own. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, I learned that the hard , she was a beautifully tenacious creature. Much like you are." His words trailed off when he looked down and saw that she was smiling. She had her father's smile.

"So, if they were so awesome, why did they leave? Why did they fake their deaths to save me?" She asked.

Azreal was afraid she would ask that. He was afraid she would force him to recall that memory. He knew, still, that she must know.

"It may take some explaining-"

"I've got all day, Azreal. Now talk,"

"...Six months after you were born, December I think it was, I was on earth. I was with your father, of course. I only ever visited that realm when accompanying your father. But the last few times, unbeknownst to anyone else, i was with your mother and father. Many a time, I was asked to watch over you while the two ran particular errands. They trusted no one else. Of course, I was always eager to see you. I... I was present at your birth... I... held you after you were born. I remember at first, it was a disorienting pleasure.

"Anyway, it was one night in December, after you fell asleep, that things began to go wrong. Or course, I would be ignorant to the signs at first, but I should have known all along that you were in a constant state of danger. That... was my fault. i should have known better than to lower my guard...

"It was at about midnight, after I had put you to bed that I felt something... wrong in the house.

"It was after the power cut off for some reason that you started crying. Of course, it mattered not to me. I knew you were just spooked. So I went and consoled you and put you back to sleep. No harm, no foul. Or, so I thought. Anyways, it was about that time when I felt something... different in the house. I didn't have a clue what it was, but I knew, somehow, it was bad. I could feel that the air had suddenly changed, had gotten thicker. It made me sick, literally sick. Physically nauseous. The night suddenly seemed much darker. If I sat in one place for too long, the room began to spin and roll and tilt. I tried pacing around, but that made things worse.

"It was then I thought I heard you crying. I felt worse when i went upstairs to console you again. The corridor seemed so much longer than I knew it was, like it stretched on forever, and I felt so heavy, so sick. If memory serves me correctly, never has in these situations but it's worth a try, I think I did in fact throw up. When I reached for your door, I paused. I heard you crying very quietly. You sounded smothered almost. That frightened me. The door to your nursery was also cracked when I got there. I knew though that I had kept it wide open, so to hear you when you needed me. It terrified me to think that someone might be in there with you, all alone.

"As I walked, I think I tripped over myself trying to get to you. I heard your cries become worse and worse. You were terrified. And... then I peered through the crack in your door. Someone shut it in my face.

"I saw it, for a moment; a pitch black shape with glowing red eyes. It terrified me. I just stood in the doorway, absolutely frozen. It took me a moment to realize that whatever that thing was, it was alone with you in your nursery.

"I panicked. I started trying to throw my body against the door, but it was in vain. I'm no small man, despite what you may say or think, and this came as much as a horror to me, knowing I couldn't manage to open the door. Again and again I tried, but nothing worked. My human vessel was weak against her power. I screamed your name, and suddenly, my illness vanished. I was aware again. And, seemingly from nowhere, your mother was there, standing over me. The door was opened, and I looked and saw her holding you. Fotis. The Champion of Darkness herself, holding you, as if on invitation. She had you in her arms, just staring at you. You cried so much. I was honestly terrified.

"I heard your mother screaming at Fotis to release you. To leave you be. They... had words."

"Had words?" Phoenix asked. Azreal had never heard her be quiet for so long, being awake. "Whadda you mean, 'had words?' What's that mean?"

"Your mother threatened Fotis, things I dare not repeat. I swear, the vulgarity of that woman will never cease to astound me... Anyways,Fotis was in no humor to argue with your mother, but she did say there would be nothing but trouble should you stay with your parents. After all, you were a crime. Primordials weren't meant to have blood children. They weren't supposed to have relations such as these. According to Fotis, Primordials do not have love, they have duty." he said as he shook his head and took a deep breath. He looked back again into cinnamon eyes. His own were we t with tears.

"I know the guilt you carry. That emptiness in your heart. You are such a loving and compassionate person, you're so much like your father. I regret not having the chance to watch you grow up. To miss out on the milestones you have achieved in life. Just as your family loved you, so too did I. In fact, you are my family. I loved you like you were my own, as much as your father did in fact. I regret so much..." He paused and let his forehead sink into his hands. He swallowed the wetness in his mouth while tears slid between his fingers. "I still do."

After a moment of stillness, Azreal felt her arms circle his neck, sweeping under his chin and around his head. Her hair tickled his ear as she pressed her face into the crease of his neck. His wings fluttered against her. Slowly, as if trying to process this act of kindness, he let his arms wrap around her as well, tightly, as if trying to squeeze his affections into her. The veins in his neck throbbed, as his her own. He began to feel warm, wet tears against his flesh.

"I guess this makes us family then, huh?" Scout murmured against him. She didn't have to look over to see that he was smiling. She already knew. When she saw him hide his face, saw his tears, it made her cry, too. She didn't want him crying over her. She'd rather have him laughing, instead. She guessed it was okay, though. Being half angel couldn't be so bad. Or, so she guessed. She had never had a real family before. now, she realized she was surrounded by family. And she loved them all so much.

She suddenly pulled back and looked wide-eyed into Azreal's ivory orbs. "This doesn't make Olivia and I cousins, does it?"  
>Azreal shook his head with a laugh. "Distant, my dear, Distant."<p>

* * *

><p>Death ran his fingers through his hair as he rested his forehead in his palms. He looked up when he heard someone enter the dull grey room. It was Sabrina.<p>

His heart lifted a little bit when he saw her smile, her bright blue eyes, the lush fall of her thick, black hair. He marveled at how beautiful she was, and that she loved him. The safety he felt in that loved was something he had never imagined he would feel. he never thought anyone would ever love him, to make him feel of such security, peace, and trust it would bring to his soul. If anyone did anything to harm that security...

Her eyes carried significant warmth as she strode over, twinkling in the sunlight as she moved. She put her arms around his neck and leaned over, nuzzling his neck beneath his ear.

"Aren't you going to see the sun like the rest of your brothers?" her smoky voice asked, the warmth of it tickling Death's ear.

"The sun?" Death asked, as if oblivious to the fact that there was, for once, no rain. He was too busy watching the luxurious curve of her cleavage rise and fall with her breaths.

"Of course, silly old man. that Trickster created a sun. Not only that, she invoked a prophecy." Sabrina said nonchalantly. A small smile graced her features.

Death stared at her. "Which one?"

"The one where the Proxie Magdna brings light to the land of endless rain."

Amber eyes blinked up at her. "Proxie Magna?" He turned his head this way and that. "You do know what a Proxie is, right?"  
>"Of course, what do you take me for? A Proxie is a Proxie! But this one has the gift of Exaltion! With this one, she has the golden stones. Her patron is Autochthon, just like Vindictus!"<p>

Death never left her probing gaze. "Are you certain she's a Proxie?"

Sabrina nodded.

Death folded his arms over the desk he sat at and let his head sink into his arms with a groan. He shook his head, raven hair falling all over his broad shoulders as he did so. Sabrina stroked his head and sat on the desk beside of his head.

"Something amiss?" she laughed.

"That Proxie looks just like War..."

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this chapter is so short. I've had a motherfucking writer's block like crazy. Welp, enjoy this shit while I get drunk off my ass on eggnog. Peace bitches.<strong>


	17. Next

"I have a motherfuckin' plan. You'll die when you hear it, I swear!" Scout laughed as she and Olivia strolled through the groves of the moist forests. Around them, remnants of rain and sprinkles of cold water floated down around them. Through the openings in the trees, golden shafts of sunlight beamed down, coloring the mossy, sodden grounds, glimmering in the little creeks and puddles here and there along the primitive trail.

As she spoke, Scout marveled at how beautiful Olivia was. She still dressed in the Hellguard's C3-PO golden armor, but that didn't at all diminish her beauty and grace. As she walked, a dull grey- green cape that was draped delicately over her shoulders billowed out behind her as she walked. She could account for many occasions on this long walk that she had told Olivia how beautiful she looked. At first, she would get all sheepish and laugh, now she just nods and looks at Scout, telling her she was prettier. To that, Scout laughed even more. She knew herself not nearly as pretty as Olivia, or any other woman for that matter, she knew though, that she was plain, at best. Even still, others suggested otherwise. They always made remarks on how adorable her big red eyes were, how cute her freckles were, the softness of her calm, friendly gaze, but she would have none of it.

"Okay, okay. What is your plan?" Olivia asked through a bout of laughter. She stepped over a huge root, holding Scout's hand as she walked. They wove themselves through the tangle of trees and bushes of pale blue roses, sometimes snagging themselves into their thorny mess of branches.

"I have a plan on how to approach this whole war shit." Scout smugly replied, tossing an arm around around Olivia's armored shoulder. She held her waist as they weaved through branches and over small creeks.

"And that plan would be?"  
>"I'm gonna take over Hell." Scout bluntly stated.<p>

Olivia jerked to a halt. She stared at Scout, wide-eyed and slack stood still, still holding Scout's hand, which pulled the girl back to Olivia to mull over her shocked expression. Her lips moved and she asked what her plan was. Indeed, she had died.

"I said I was going to take over Hell." Scout said again. She smiled at the angel.

Olivia blinked about a dozen times. Was this kid stupid?! How in the name of all that is holy could she think to do such a thing? Was she even thinking?  
>"T-take over... What?! What makes you think you could do such a thing?"<p>

"Listen! It's a good plan! Trust me! I know a way we might be able to turn the tides on this war! All I need is a great big army! I've done a whole lot of thinking, and I really think this idea might just work." Scout said as she pulled a tangle of vines and branches out of their walkway. She kept talking, but Olivia stopped listening. She was in no humor to hear of Scout's absurd plan of inevitable suicide. Take over Hell? What was next, alter horoscopes, the universe? This human was some kind of stupid, despite how clever she sometimes was. Olivia loved her, but she worried about her a lot.

Her thoughts were halted when Scout suddenly tugged on her shoulder, pulling her close. She only did so when there was something in the area she didn't know about. Best case scenario, it was a little bug. Worst, a dragon. Scout shushed her, and tugged a bit on her hair. Man, Olivia hated that, hair pulling. But she did anyway.

Stupid.

"Hey! Lookit that! Look! Looklooklooklook!?" Scout said in a hushed voice as she pointed into a soggy clearing. Olivia looked, and for a moment, she didn't see what her companion saw. All she noticed at first was the mounds of moss and clumps of wet roots gathered in huge hills around the gigantic trees. It took her a moment before she finally noticed it.

A small metallic hump mounded in the furthest corner of the space. It's glossy, golden surface reflected everything around it, like polished armor. It looked like a mound of living, moving quicksilver. Hexed, Olivia stared in stupor. This, she knew, was a new life, preparing to emerge into the world. This was an angel in the making.

Angels didn't come into life like most things. Essentially, they came from bubbles of a magical substance; holy light, which helps the angel to develop all of their celestial sensitivities and abilities. although, there could be complications. Olivia and Archon Hestus were the ones to asses young Ivory's abilities when she was born, and discovered a developmental disability. Her hands emerged from the cocoon, but she retreated. Hestus was forced to resort to the dangerous procedure of removing her by force. Then, they discovered that her wings were injured. She retreated back into the cocoon because she was in pain. The holy power of the cocoon provided some comfort, but she couldn't stay there forever. That would have killed her.

They had to get Azreal. He would want to see this. It had been almost an entire century since an angel had been born. This was more important that she thought it might be, she knew it. This might be part of the prophecy invoked by that little Trickster, the Proxie, so Scout called her. Perhaps he would know what to do about this. Perhaps he could piece together what it meant.

"Come on, we have to go and get Azreal!" Olivia said as she tugged Phoenix along with her. "Hurry up!"

"Wait! What is that? That bubble thingie?" Scout asked she she was dragged through wet vines and over rock hard roots.

"That's an angel, Phoenix." Olivia said, shrieking as she and Scout toppled onto one another as they both tripped over a huge root arced above ground.

"That was no angel, Olive. That was a friggin' bubble on steroids."

"No, you don't understand! The angel is _inside _of the bubble, stupid!" Olivia squawked. "We're taking this to Azreal. Now."

* * *

><p>Karma held her arms out straight as she walked along the tall stone wall. The rain had stopped completely. War walked alongside the wall. He had asked her not to pester him, which she hadn't. She simply went with him wherever he went. She didn't bother him with her normal constant talking, as she did many times before her father died, rather, she spoke to him sporadically. Doing so kept him from becoming upset with her.<p>

When he told her to hush, she did so. She remained seated when he spoke to his brothers or the Ebon Sai. Early in the morning, he had an encounter with the Phoenix Sai. She was so funny. She spoke to War, whether he wanted to speak or not. She said she forgave him for attacking her in their city, and proceeded to ask what country she was in when he attacked. Karma supposed he answered wrong. War was almost instantly chased out of the temple by a flame-fisted Phoenix screaming, "YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!"

So, all in all, she and War had a pretty good day so far.

"SO, now that the sun is out, could I show you something else, sir?" She asked as she balanced herself on top of the wall and walked alongside him.

"No." he stoically replied. "I think I've had enough of your tricks for one day." The way he spoke to her was as if he wanted to shove her and her annoying little ass off of the wall and into the mud. But, he remembered the last time he had wronged her purposely. Somehow, that child managed to summon lightning whenever he stepped outside. He couldn't step outside without being electrocuted. That was beyond awful. That is, it was until the Ebon Sai explained "Karma" and it's vile meaning, thus the Trickster child's principle means of manner. He knew then why she was called Karma.

Looking over his shoulder as she walked was the only way she could see his face. He was a very handsome older man. She had said so, which War only replied, "I know," which kinda got on Karma's nerves. It was a good think he knew how good looking he was, but the least he could do was pretend to be a bit modest about it.

"It's no trick I have in mind sir. You'll be pleased-"  
>"You promise me pleasure an awful lot, little one. Is there some reason you strive to please me so?" he asked, sounding to be on the verge of frustration. That was what she didn't want.<p>

"Because... because I.. ummm... I like you! You're a... like a hero where I'm from." She said, being truthful enough. She twirled a lock of silver curls in her fingers as she stared down the length of him.

When she next looked, she saw War had stopped walking. He gave her a screwed up look that said everything and nothing. She stopped on the wall above him and stared back. They both stared for a while. The warm wind blew about their hair and loose garments. He held her with that gaze for a long time.

"Is that a lie?" he asked at last, a snicker threatening to escape his throat.

Her little eyes fluttered nervously. "No, really. You're a war hero back where I'm from."

"And where are you from exactly?"

"I'm from Discord, duh." Karma said as she crossed her arms. "Tricksters pretty much adore you, just so you know."

War wiped a weary hand across his face as she said that. That was something he hardly ever heard compliments period. Ones coming from some small child he didn't know disturbed him.

Wait a minute, Tricksters revered him where she was from. There were no more Tricksters. The Nephilim had killed them all. he knew of that. The only Trickster alive as of now was Eris. He knew, because he had spared her. The worst decision he had ever made, but she was the only one of her kind that didn't enrage him entirely. As a matter of fact, he felt that somewhere deep inside, he actually liked Tricksters. he could relate to them sometimes; relate to their lust for chaos and trouble. He was an enforcer of Balance, however. He had tried to bury those desires for as long as he served the Charred Counsel. Yes, there were no more Tricksters... So where's this one come from?

He observed more closely; those eyes. He knew those eyes. _Eris. _All Tricksters had one blue eye, but only Eris could have given one a green eye. Tricksters had only two kinds of eyes: blue and yellow, or blue and black. Eris was born an angel, made a Trickster by a demon Caster, and had naturally green eyes. No other Trickster had her eyes. Except this little one.

Now that he thought more of it, he did hear word that this little one did look... a lot like him. He knew his own features enough to know when a choice few stared back at him. Now, looking at her with this notion in mind, it made him slightly nervous. He knew the feature similar to his own that she possessed: the hair, the eye, the shape of her nose. he also knew the foreign cast of features she had as well: the curls, that smile, the other eye, and above all, the lisp. Karma had this adorable lisp, the moment War heard it for the first time, he swore it reminded him so much of Eris. Not only that, but Karma had this uncanny fascination for birds, an obsession almost, much like the Mistress of Chaos herself. Karma had demonstrated her bird calls, and War found them astonishing. It was literally impossible for her to pull off most of the calls she had preformed, but she did them anyway. Matched the tones of exotic birds perfectly.

Suddenly, something clicked.

"Karma, I know every Trickster alive today. Tell me who your mother is."

War almost found himself laughing at the sight of her priceless shocked face. "Gotcha." he smugly murmured, smiling the tiniest bit out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?!" Karma squawked, throwing her fists at her hips. Her face reddened. "You weren't supposed to find out until later!" God, her lisp was adorable.

"I know you might think me an old fool, but I'm not stupid. Did you honestly think, after everything I've seen you do, that you could fool me for so long?" he asked, folding his arms over his strong chest. A silver brow raised as he prepared to further admonish her, but he was cut off.

"Shhh~ War! Don't say another word," Karma whispered. Something off in the distant woods seemed to have caught her eye. Probably a dragon, or a cloud that held a strange shape.

War," she whispered again. "Turn around very slowly. You have to see this."

* * *

><p>Azreal's mouth gawped open. He stood there, straight as a board, and stared at the bubble. Scout stood beside of it. She poked and prodded the surface, laughing dumbly at the ripples of her reflection. Azreal had told her over and over to quit playing with it, but does she ever listen? No. She never <em>ever <em>listens.

Even still, it was a sheer miracle that this bubble was here in the first place! What fortune it was to be able to see it here now, rather than to have discovered it too soon and have a young angel roaming about, all alone. Azreal had a soft spot in his heart for the young of his kingdom. Just as a few of his brothers had. Michael especially. That man adored children, and was a perfect father figure for those who looked up to him (which was almost everybody).

He could hardly remember the last time an angel was born, young Ivory it was. Poor thing. He had no clue what had happened, but she had emerged injured and lost use of her wings, making her an unfortunate Invisible. Now, there was another one? The Creator was bestowing this grand blessing at the most awkward of times. Right now, when there was a war at stake, and now He brings them a child? Right in the middle of a wa-

Hold on.

The Proxie Magdna; The Sun; A new angel... Something bad is going to happen, he knew it. He didn't remember the Prophecy exactly, but he knew something very bad was to come of it, unless the proper steps were taken.

He strode over and grabbed Phoenix by her arm, yanking her away from the golden bubble. She stumbled back with a yelp and almost fell backward onto him.

"Whoa! What's the matte Azreal?" She stammered as she regained her composure.

"When did you find this here?" he asked sternly. It was unnatural for him to ever raise his voice above a sound, inside-voice level, but now he sounded a bit panicked.

"Just this morning! Why? What's wrong with it? It's not a monster, is it?"  
>"No, it's-"<br>"NOO! I knew it! I knew angels were part of the Illuminati!" She cried, covering her face with her hands.

Azreal instantly deadpanned. He was going to backhand her, one of these days...

"No, it's a prophetic thing. Are you sure it was here this morning?" he asked wearily.

"I think so. Olivia and I were walking around in the woods, and we just found it." She waggled a finger at the bubble, poking it again. At that, Azreal finally slapped her hand. She really needed to stop. God, why did she have to pester things like this? Pester and play and tease? Now that he thought about it, it reminded him a lot of her father. He always slacked at times, and quite often did he tend to fool around with things he wasn't supposed to. Like throwing rocks at a hornets nest.

"Where is the Ebon Sai?" He asked her. "She may want to see this."

"Why? What's gonna happen?" Scout asked, seemingly worried now by Azreal's panic.

Azreal drew a long breath. He tried to recall what parts of prophecy he remembered about this scenario here, and tried to make it as accurate and chronologically correct as he possibly could.

_"On the Seventh day of the Shaurna's light, the child will emerge... the beacon will draw the shadows from their hiding, henceforth bringing the Laughing Death to the temple... There, the Laughter will claim the lives of a choice few, sending them to the Dream Realm until their souls are retrieved from the City of the Dead, pried from the cold hands of the BloodBorn Reaper herself... She will kill Death, and The Proxie Magdna will fall, unless Death kills the BloodBorn Reaper, which will open the gate for the blackness to emeerge from her heart... The FirstBorn Ebon Sai will emerge and purge the darkness from the Shaurna... and then there will be war..." _Azreal recited the passage as best as he could. He knew Scout had no idea what any of this really meant, but he knew some. The FirstBorn Ebon Sai was not Sabrina, that much he knew. The guilt in his heart for what he had done to the FirstBorn Ebon Sai resurfaced at this chain of events to come now. How he regretted this. He knew it would be painful for her. That was the last thing he wanted.

"Sh-should I go and get her? Sabrina, I mean?" Scout asked.

Azreal stared at her face, but she knew he wasn't seeing her face. He was seeing something far more distant.

"No," he said at last. "She's busy right now."

* * *

><p>Uriel couldn't help but feel nervous every time she was around the Ebon Sai alone. She didn't know what it was, but something about her just terrified her. Perhaps it was her power, or maybe the way she looked, all eerie and pale? No, that couldn't be it. Death was eerie and pale, if not more so than Sabrina, and she had feared him none during her encounters with him. It must be her power, Uriel thought at last.<p>

Sabrina was taking her somewhere deep into the temples bowels to a place she said was for her eyes only. She was nervous to accept it, but knew Sabrina would not take 'no' for an answer. She still wasn't comfortable, and she knew Sabrina knew it too. Sabrina always knew when someone was scared or anxious. That was also something that bothered Uriel. Sabrina always _knew._

As they ascended down the winding staircases and long corridors, Uriel began to feel like she had been here before. She felt that this maze, this labyrinth of a place was familiar to her. She was almost sure she could find her way out of here without the help of the Ebon Sai. But how? It was a strange feeling in a place so frightening.

The dark halls were dim with pale blue light. The light seemed to grow as they both entered a huge anteroom similar to the one as they entered the temple. Same dome shaped roof, same glowing pools of light blue waters, only no fountain and no benches. There was only torches and a pool and fine, tall walls engraved with dragons. Icy blue eyes stared at her from all around on the walls, though they were just Topaz, they felt like eyes. Uriel's stomach started to feel upset. She knew something bad was going to happen here.

"Uriel," Sabrina spoke soundly, making the Hellguard jump. "I have an important task for you. It involves these waters, but trust me when I say that you'll be alright when you submerge"

Uriel turned her head and blinked at the grey woman. "Submerge? What the hell are you talking about?"

"You aren't remembering anything on your own, and I apologize for the inconvenience, but I need you to remember."

"Remember what?" Uriel snapped, unknowingly exposing her fear of what was going to be done to her.

"Who you are." Sabrina answered in that low tone of hers. She wore her mask, that face that was void of any emotion, and stared down her nose at the angel. She expected to see Uriel's face scrunch up in confusion, but instead, she took a weary step back. Her face froze. Those golden eyes were wide, if not with fear, with alarm.

"What are you telling me, Ebon Sai? I am a Hellguard soldier. I am a defender of the White Nation, a leader, a fighter. Who are you saying I am?" The angel all but stuttered.

Sabrina's face was grim. Now, she looked angry, as if Uriel had spoken out of tone; spoken out of line. Icy blue eyes held her golden ones in a death grip, making the angel sick to her stomach. Uriel didn't realize it right away, but she was shaking. Her palms were sweating. She wasn't normally so easy to frighten, but things were different with the Ebon Sai. None of the other Exalted ones frightened her as much as she did. Not even the huge Nephilim one. Kolo, she thought. His name escaped her at the moment.

Sabrina was giving her that look. The look that told her she was truly displeased.

"You are an Ebon Sai. I need you to remember. Come with me._ Now_."

For a moment, Sabrina paused and smiled over her soulder at the angel. Uriel didn't like that smile. She didn't like that smile at all.

"And you might want to take off your clothes."

"I beg your pardon?"

* * *

><p>That bird was so glorious, War thought. Never had he imagined he would ever hear the fabled call of the majestic creature, nor see it for that matter, but it was there. It was there in the woods, perched up onto a thick tree limb. Its long neck stretched upward, giving yet another shrill screech that seemed to quiet everything else around it. Its feathers were a marvelous red and yellow and orange, its slender body giving way to long, twig like legs. The body of the bird practically glittered with embers, although it burned nothing around it. It was such a graceful, powerful bird.<p>

War had heard countless tales about these creatures from his brethren, how these birds were a warrior's blessing, that they brought great deals of good luck. He never believed them, of course. Now, of course, he felt genuinely dumb. A Firebird was there, right in front of him, sure, it was a few yards away, but it was still _right there_! War couldn't believe his eyes. He had to remind himself to draw a breath. The fabled birds of legend were actually real. Why had he never seen one before? Surely while he was on Earth one might have shown? Maybe? No, it couldn't have. What with all of the demonic activity, it would've been frightened off by all of the dangers that Earth posed to the delicate creature.

Now that he thought more on it, he found it awfully strange that a Firebird would suddenly show up here, of all places. Perhaps it was because of the sun, he surmised. This Proxie did say she had a plan of action, and if he knew who she was, and who she took after, he knew she would carry out her intentions. Not even death could stop this one, so he thought. She was a clever one, carrying out Prophecies the way she did. She must have a talent for planning things like these. War himself never possessed that skill. He acted on impulse, on instinct. He acted too straightforward. Karma was more subtle, more patient than he. However, he was far more intelligent than this little one. In that, he had her beat.

In a blink, almost too quick to react, the bird took to the air, sweeping its fiery wings out to its sides and swooping toward the ground. It was so quick, it frightened Karma, sending her over the wall and onto the hard gravel. War almost flinched, but continued to stare as the bird took to flight, rushing over him in a spectacular storm of embers and sparkles. He could watch that bird fly forever. It was such a distracting spectacle, he hadn't noticed Karma fallen flat on her face.

War shook his head, trying to snap himself out of his apparent state of stupor. He leaned over and picked Karma up from under her arms. He was met by face dripping blood from her chin. She sucked her lips together between her teeth and blinked up at him. Quickly, as if her mind had finally caught up with her, she covered her mouth with her free hand. War could see her tongue poking at her cheeks, searching for something as it seemed.

He almost laughed.

He held an outstretched palm out in front of her face. A silver brow rose over his eye as he smirked down at the little thing. "Spit 'em out."

Karma stared at him dumbly for a moment, like she didn't know what he was talking about. She did realize what he meant, and spit a couple of teeth out into his hand. Just as he pulled away, she pulled his wrist back to her face, spitting out two more teeth. Canines. She wiped the blood on a piece of clot on War's forearm. It only spread out onto her face, but it helped a little.

She looked up at him and smiled, her two front teeth missing. "I'm all good, now."

God, she was adorable.

* * *

><p>Scout frowned at Pantera. The Shifter's grey eyes glowed, lit from within by a cold, silver fire as she glowered toward the knot of Nephilim talking among themselves. She was growling at Securii. Figures, since Securii was a member of her species. That, and she was kind of a bitch. She growled at the Nephilim among the columns at the base of the expansive steps. Her tiny lips drew back in a snarl, exposing surprisingly prodigious fangs. Pantera's growl grew deeper in her throat, sounding to Scout like an angry old car engine. Scout brought a hand to the creatures short umber-red hair, smoothing it around her ears at the top of her head.<p>

"I know, Pantera. I don't like her all that much either. I don't think anyone really likes her that much. She's a lot like Strife. You know Strife, right? He's a real dick, trust me." She said as she pet the little growling thing, though Pantera wouldn't have a clue what she was saying.

Scout glanced over and saw Azreal with Ignatius. She was sure he had shown Ignatius the bubble by now. Azreal said something earlier about Ignatius and Ruth being more experienced in angelic birth than he himself was, and would as for their assistance in this matter. Somehow, Scout always figured Ignatius was a midwife kind of guy. Though she never said that to his face. Ruth on the other hand, she had trouble believing. After all, how can you know what your doing around the new kid if you can't _see_ the new kid?

Ruth was a blind seer. Although she declares otherwise. She is said to possess the gift of heightened senses. She claimed to not be entirely blind, but was sensitive to light, so she wore her blinders to protect her delicate eyes. On one occasion, at night, Scout was given the privilege of seeing her eyes while she helped Ruth around the Argent Spire's libraries. They were a spectacular spearmint green.

Angels had lovely eye colors, so Scout thought. All pinks and golds and greens and purples and whites. Hardly any color was left out when it came to their eyes. All but blues and reds and browns. She never saw any blues or browns, much like she was used to back on Earth. She was half angel, though. She was red-eyed. Not so bad, she thought. The first red-eyed angel hybrid freak-of-nature. She had a new title.

As she thought, Scout ate about twelve of the Ecanasha Luke had found growing out in the forest. Good thing, too. Scout was starving. She couldn't remember that last time she had eaten anything to satisfy her. All Heaven had was apples, peaches, and strawberries, but nobody would ever let her have any strawberries. They made angels act... real weird.

The plot thickens...

Scout bit off a huge chunk of fruit and picked it out of her mouth, handing it over to Pantera discretely and told her to sit. The Shifter stopped her growling for a moment long enough to chew up the bite, then continued on at Securii again. She looked like she really hated that Nephilim. Then again, she was just an animal, after all. She didn't know any better but to be protective. Especially whenever Uriel was around. Pantera would bite Death's fingers off if given the chance. Nobody ever came too close to Uriel when Pantera was there with her. She was like a perfect guard dog. Uriel had said once that the few angels that do have them as companions do not choose which pup they obtain, rather, the pups choose them. Pantera friggin' loved Uriel, and would shadow her whether the angel liked it or not.

Pantera chewed and curled up close to Scout's lap as Ignatius approached. That there displayed her disinterest in him. He sat on the steps beside of Scout and watched the green skies, averting the looks of the Nephilim below.

"So, what's happening? Did you find anything out about the bubble?" she asked as she pulled a fruit out of her long sleeve, which the angel graciously accepted.

Ignatius took a huge bite and waggled a finger out towards the open forest. "We've managed to figure out how old the little one might become should it emerge in the next seven days." He replied with a mouthful of fruit.

"Seven days?! Is that normally how fast it is?" Scout asked. She laughed a little and knuckled some juice off of his chin before he next spoke.

"No, it actually takes months for the angel to grow and develop properly. This one emerged about two days ago."

Two days ago, Scout thought. That was when the sun first came out. The sun didn't have anything to do with this, did it?

"So, what else did you figure out about it?" She asked, taking another bite of her fruit.

"Well, I think it's safe to say this one will be just fine, since it is growing in a place of foreign magic. An angel may develop much differently here, rather than one would back in the White City. I don't think the amount of time here will pose any real threat to the child because of these magics, although Ruth thinks otherwise." He harrumphed and took another huge bite, squirting juice all over. "I don't understand how a woman can be so disagreeable..."

Scout smiled and shrugged. "I don't know man, she's always been nice to me." She bragged, smugly taking a bite of her fruit. The next thing she knew, her snack was smacked out of her hand. Pantera chased it down the steps and devoured it, core and all.

Ignatius glanced back over his shoulder. He looked up the stairs, then back toward the Nephilim, all sitting around and talking. A few laughed. The fish-looking one seemed rather amused, by what, he couldn't tell. He looked down the gravel paths and saw that War was approaching with the little Proxie Azreal spoke about. Word spread fast of the Proxie Magdna being among them all. Whenever something happened, it wasn't so hush hush, here. Especially when it was divulged to everyone that Scout was an angelic Terrestrial. When that was discovered, all of the angels started treating her more like their own, not like they didn't before, but it was still a great thing to know.

"Hey," he asked , looking back at Scout after searching all over. "Have you seen Uriel?"

* * *

><p>Uriel swallowed as she stared over at the far wall. She had never felt so raped in all her life. All of her modesty was as good as gone, now. Sabrina's voice echoed through the empty room.<p>

"Are you ready now, or are you going to keep putting this off?" she asked smugly through the numbing silence of the room.

Uriel drew a shaky breath, crossing her arms firmly over her chest. Her legs were squeezed so tightly shut, her knees hurt. "Yes, I-I think I'm ready now. What must I do, other than continue to let you rape me with your eyes?" she hissed through clenched teeth.

Sabrina threw her head back with a luxurious laugh (Uriel sometimes hated how everything this woman did was perfect). "All you have to do is breathe and focus your mind on the task at hand: remembering your past, Uriel. Every angel remembers his or her emergence, every angel but you. Do not be afraid, or your chances on enlightenment will deteriorate greatly. You also must keep breathing. Breathe the magic of our patron into you and breathe out the air. Only the magic may pass. You will be just as afraid to do this as you will to see the visions and memories, but you must do it or a lot of people you care about will die. Sabrina explained.

Uriel sighed and shook her head. She couldn't believe she was doing this. This was insane, and terrifying, but mostly insane. "Understood." she mumbled grudgingly. She couldn't help being afraid she would be destroyed, or driven mad by the visions. Without further word, Sabrina approached her from behind and placed a calming hand on her forehead, lowering her down into the glowing blue waters. Uriel squeezed her eyes shut, and not being able to help herself, sucked in a deep breath as she prepared to be held under.

She was hesitant to breathe in the alien waters, but knew she had no choice. She had to figure out what was going on in her memories, what was so important and absurd that Sabrina would say she was an Ebon Sai. That right there was a bit too hard to believe. Uriel knew is she had been Exalted, she would have known sooner. She would have used that amount of power to her advantage during the End War. With the gift of Exaltion up her sleeve, she would have ended the war as soon as it began.

Thinking more on it, panic snatched at her. How many of her comrades had died there on Earth? How many gave their lives for a war that was already lost? If she really was an Exalted one, she could have done something to save them. She could have saved the Kingdom of Man if she had tapped into that kind of power. But she knew she didn't have power remotely similar to that of an Ebon Sai. Or of any Sai for that matter.

Finally, Uriel expelled the air from her lungs. No more fear. What had to be done must be done, no matter how frightened she must be. That was her duty as a Hellguard; as a defender of the White Nation: to face what terrifies others, and to keep her fellow people safe from harm. This must be done. Sabrina had said that people she cared about would die if she didn't com through with this.

She pulled a deep breath of the silken essence of magic and cold tranquility. Her muscles relaxed, her eyes no longer squeezed shut, rather, she looked to have fallen asleep. There was no heat and no cold. Through her closed eyes she saw light and shadow in a single, spectral vision. She felt movement, all fast and slow in the weightless void rushing and drifting and floating and bouncing. Her lungs swelled with the sweet presence of the powerful magic, feeling as if she was taking the magic into her soul. Time meant nothing.

Like a griffon in a dive, Uriel suddenly shot ahead, and at the same time, she silently floated in place. Everything meant nothing, yet it meant everything. It was an incredible confusion of seductively tantalizing sensations each time Uriel drew another breath. With an abrupt explosion of foreign perception, she began to see the visions. Memories of her emergence, and the woman there.

Sabrina silently stood over her, waiting for the signs to appear that she was ready. She pulled a knife out from behind her back that she had been keeping for this occasion. She didn't want to have to be the one to this, but there was no other way. When Uriel stopped breathing, she rose the silver blade up over her, over her heart. Quickly, to get over and done with, she brought the knife down, digging into Uriel's heart. She swiftly pulled the knife from the angel's chest and watched the blood fill the pool. Watched and waited until she could no longer see the angel. No doubt she was seeing the visions now. Still, Sabrina didn't want to be the one to kill her.

When the entire space was drowned in the cherry redness of her blood, it all slowly faded away, dissolving back to the crystal blue waters they once were. Everything was going smoothly. Sabrina tested the wound, prodding the open flesh with her finger. When she removed her finger, she was pleased with what she found. Cobalt blue blood spewed anew from the wound. Good, she thought, everything was working.

Sabrina left quickly, hoping to get out of there while the magic was still not as strong as in normally was. She posted Lima outside of the room to keep guard, and to offer clothes when the angel emerged. She didn't say who the angel was, though. She had more pressing matters to deal with.

* * *

><p>Darkness swallowed everything. Where there was once the faintest glimmer of light, there was nothing but blackness, capturing everything in it's wake and leaving nothing behind but even more darkness. How her master could live in these conditions, Kijara had no clue. She did like her decorations, though. Those lingering corpses of angels, the few demons who dare to speak against her, and a few other she had taken for fun. The smell of their rotting flesh was satisfying to the demon's tastes.<p>

Kijara wished now she had hit the Shadows one more time before she left her nest. She was starting to itch already. It seemed that the more you take this power, the more you have to keep taking it to keep from killing yourself. Although taking too much would kill you too, but Master Abrigor knew just how much to use. Still, as she wandered the long, dark hall to Abrigor's loft, she felt itchy and anxious. Maybe she was excited to see her Master again, maybe she was excited from all the blood she had been drinking. Or perhaps, her new assignment.

Her feet stubbed against a marble step in front of her with a satisfying squeak. Kijara loved those silly noises. She quickly knealt and placed her palms over her heart.

"I am here, Master. What is your will of me?" She asked.

Abrigor, silhouetted by the red flames behind her, took a deep breath. An annoyed breath. She hated Kijara. Hated her looks, her antics, her means of carrying out assignments, how she always sounded like she was higher than Abrigor could tolerate. Hated her period. But she was strong. Very strong. She learned how to master the Shadows well. She opened her eyes and faced the Akuma below her. Those green eyes shone bright against the blackness of the dark room.

"Kijara, I have a job for you to do." She said in monotone. "I am sure you won't disappoint me."

"Whatever you will, Master, I can surely do so to please you."

"Good. I want you to travel somewhere. The teleportational laylines have finally opened up to me, thanks to their new sun. Now, I want you to go there, and remove a few... obstacles."

The Akuma smiled insolently through shark-like teeth. She remained on her knees in the dark. Her painted face tightened in a huge grin. "I'm sure I can do that. Who would you like me to remove?"

"The Horsemen."

"And? Surely there is more of a challenged posed to this request, or are you just teasing me?"

Abrigor sneered down at that insolent clown. She was lucky she didn't kill her right then and there for such disrespect. "The Ebon Sai, as well as the Proxie Magdna. I know she's alive as well. And that means a BloodBorn is as well. But I want them alive for now."

Abrigor shook a finger at the clown. "Listen here: I want them alive! As well as the Phoenix! kill whoever else you like, but I need them alive. Do I make myself clear?" Abrigor hissed.

She was in no mood to deal with this Akuma's fiendish attitude now. The voices were driving her mad, screaming at her to take more of the Shadows into herself. They cried out to her, thirsting for more darkness, more blood, more Grace. They wanted and wanted. These forces were such a hungry thing to deal with. Annoyingly overwhelming. All she wanted as of now was to know that her task would be carried out as she wanted them to be. Nothing extra, no improvisations, just the task and nothing more. She was so frustrated. So angry. So... tired. She was very tired.

"Crystal, Master. I will do as you ask of me." Kijara smiled again, which angered Abrigor even more. All she wanted was this waste of space to get out of her lair and leave her be. Go and do your task, trash...

"Go and kill everybody. I don't care how you go about it. But remember who I want alive. Remember that." She hissed through blooded teeth.

At last, the Akuma departed. Akumas were the equivalent to the lowest possible species you could find roaming the Nine Hells. Akumas were weak, spineless creatures compared to actual demons. Abrigor hated Akumas, but found them... entertaining. Better yet, dispensable. Billions of Akumas could die under her order for all she cared, as long as they softened up her prey for her, it was all worth it. But this one, Kijara. She hated her something awful. The clowny appearance, the blood lust of a brain dead Snype, that smile... God, she hated Kijara.

Which was exactly why she was sending her on this mission.


	18. The Zodiac

A figure worked its way up along the opposite side of a long winding river bank, dragging Karma behind. Seemed like the Kingdom of the Dead. It took War a moment to realize he was dreaming, although he didn't recall going to sleep. He remembered telling his brothers about the Firebird, and Karma wandering off from him. Now, it seemed as though he was dreaming, but everything felt so fluid, so read. A very vivid dream.

War surmised that this might be a vision of things to come. Since his appearance to the Tree of Knowledge, he had a multiple prophetic dreams. He had known someone was to arrive with a familiar of his when he dreamed that Ergo appeared to him, followed by a small, black child. Like she was nothing more than a silhouette. That shadow then followed him everywhere. No doubt, that blasted tree left him with a 'gift' for sure.

War squinted across the river. he realized the woman dragging Karma along was an Akuma. Her face disturbed him, the way her face was all painted... and that grin. She dragged Karma along by her hair. That was not good at all. Karma was screaming. War knew her to be a fearless little thing, getting herself into countless foolish situations that she herself didn't think completely through, but dealing with demons, especially ones like this Akuma, she looked frightened.

Beside him, a few yards away on the river bank, was Eris, along with Lima. Eris screamed across the river, threatening and cursing, demanding that the demon release the child immediately. The demon only laughed, a disturbingly maniacal laugh. Death suddenly appeared, covered all over in cobalt blue fluid. Now, War was confused as hell. What were they doing here, especially Eris.

The Akuma held the child out before herself, for all to see. "See War? See what happens when you let your anger blind you? You left her alone! Had you not, I wouldn't have found her. This is your fault." She said, as she pointed with her long claws for emphasis.

Eris tried to tear herself from Death's, which were holding her back. Her legs kicked madly, trying to charge into the water. She looked like she _had _to reach Karma. Part way through her struggle, she looked his way. She was in tears. never had War seen the woman in tears.

"This is all _your _fault." she hissed. Her voice sounded like a plea for death. "I should have taken her when I had the chance."

War stood rigid. Had this really been his fault? Had he neglected Karma and left her alone, allowing the Akuma to find her? It was out of hands now. After all, this was a vision. It wasn't real right now. He might as well stay put and watch what happens.

Eris faced her enemy. Her arms lifted, pried from Death's grip, fingers spread, as if commanding all to stop. She glared over the river to the painted face. Her unruly golden curls fell sodden and wet against her face. War had never seen her so furious. The thought of a woman as insane as her getting into a fit of rage... frightened him almost. That, and the way she screamed at the Akuma to let her go. She wasn't asking at all. She was really threatening her. Which War knew was trouble all on its own. To have a Trickster as your enemy, that is.

"Surrender the Phoenix," the Akuma hissed. "or the little one dies."

The Akuma dragged a long claw along, pressing it against Karma's throat. The little girl was screaming in terror, her arms reaching out to her father, little fingers clawing the air. War felt genuinely distraught at having been responsible for this. Indeed, he shared Eris's wrath.

"Last chance!" the Akuma laughed. War fumed. She was laughing like it was funny. "You know you can't put one life above the lives of all others. Make a choice, or I will make it for you."

War felt he should try and do something, but when he tried to move, he felt frozen. He had no clue why. There, in front of him, was his own flesh and blood, crying out for him while clutched between that demon's claws. She called for her mother. Death still held Eris, but she was a strong woman. She was gaining.

The Akuma's laughter echoed up and down the river. Her black eyes held no humor, however. "You stupid Nephilim! You had your chance! I'm sick and tired of waiting for you to come to a decision!" her expression twisted in rage. "The Proxie Magdna dies."

Fists at his side, War shouted in protest. The demon just stared at him, smiling that awful smile. The sound of his fury seemed to split the morning air, hushing all around him. Even if this was just a nightmare, he was enraged. Enraged at his own contempt, at his own foolishness. He had left Karma alone. He left his daughter alone and a demon stole her. A Shadow wielder, for that matter.

Sabrina had told him about Shadow wielders and how to point one out. They always had a black scelara. Always. He knew that Akuma was one, not by the blacks of her eyes, but just by her look. Sabrina said that the Shadows were a form of drug. That they poisoned their victims. She looked like she was sick. Shaky and thin. She was a Shadow wielder, no doubt.

And she was going to kill Karma.

War did feel he had some sort of connection to Karma, and he did enjoy having her around. He never had the pleasure of having someone look up to him. To have someone smile when they saw him. He never knew what it was like to have someone enjoy having him around. Sure, Death was another story, but he was his brother. This was some strange child who appeared a few days ago, and had gotten herself attached to him. He was attached to her. He actually liked her more than he would let on.

She had said once that he reminded her of her father. He should, so he thought. But it was those times when she said she loved him, as a person, that made him feel... strange. Those words would make him feel something tighten in his chest, make him feel sentimental, almost. Someone had actually told him that he was loved. Karma loved him.

The Akuma lifted Karma by her hair. Eris screamed and collapsed onto the sand, convulsing in tears. Karma cried out for him.

_"Father, I'm sorry!"_

War stared in utter disbelief an rage as the Akuma sliced into Karma's throat. Karma flailed. Candy-red blood spurted across the Akuma's gnarly fingers as she sawed her claw back and forth. She gave one final yank of her claw, and the little Proxie's bloody body dropped in a limp heap.

War felt a violent scream welling in the back of his throat. The lump there wouldn't let him do anything though. His face twitched with the sheer anger, and the fact that he was too stunned to do anything. The silty sand at the river bank turned a wet red.

The Akuma held the severed head high with a screeching laugh of victory. Strings of flesh and blood swung beneath it. The mouth hung open in a slack, silent cry. The blue and green eyes seemed to be locked onto him.

Eris covered her head in a cry of rage. Her eyes squeezed shut. The runes that ran up the length of her arms no longer looked dark. Rather, they glowed a bright green. It was with a start that War realized it was him her anger was focused on. The way she was looking at him now was... frightening. She shook with the fury and cursed at him. He didn't hear what she said.

Then, as if in an instant, she was in front of him. Death laid on his side, sliced open from his throat to his groin. Her eyes both glowed a stark green. Tight, interlocking golden scales covered her arms, which ended in a sharp tip. The left arm was covered in blood. The right was impaled in War's chest. Eris's mouth moved, but she didn't say what War anticipated.

_"Wake up, Idiot."_

* * *

><p>War was in the dead of sleep when he awoke in a cold sweat. He felt sick to his stomach. Never had he had a nightmare such as that one. Never had he been that afraid of an inevitable death.<p>

He quickly rose up from his bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Where was Karma? He had to see if she was okay. He wore nothing but his trousers, but paid it no mind. He quickly left his room, not even bothering to close the door behind him and practically sprinted down the hall. He didn't knock. He didn't respect the fact that she was probably sleeping. He simply entered.

At her bedside, he pulled the covers off of the limp little body and shook her. She awoke with a squeal, and surprisingly, punched him square in the jaw. He actually recoiled a bit. It was a pretty strong shot for such a small fist.

"What the hell was that?!" her voice squeaked, standing up on her bed, fists at her side. "I was asleep, you mutton-head!"

Her little face was red. Some angry face, so he thought. She looked even more adorable when she was angry. He tried his hardest not to smile, lest she give him another pap. She had punched him in the face, which was no small feat for a small child such as herself. (Well, it was more of a slap, really, but it was still cute.)

He didn't realize it, but he was smiling. For a short time though. It was when Karma had fallen into a strange bout of coughing that it gave him pause. She had been coughing like that ever since she had gotten here, she said. But it seemed as though she was getting sicker.

Indeed, she looked worse. The past few days, War did notice how she looked. Often times, she seemed tired, but forced herself on, somewhat relentlessly. He thought she must simply be restless, as he knew Tricksters to be. Hyperactive and too clever for their own seemed to get more and more tired, even when she claimed to have gotten a full night's sleep. He knew something was wrong, but even he thought that if she did contract an ailment, it would pass soon. Tricksters never stayed sick for too long.

Karma wasn't just sick, he surmised.

Her eyes seemed to get redder, and as he watched, he saw that she was beginning to cough up little clots of blood. War hadn't seen these symptoms in a long time. Red eyes, sluggishness, bloody coughs. One thing had to be its cause.

"Karma, how long have you been sick like this?" he asked as he rubbed his jaw with a thumb and forefinger.

"I've been sick for a while now. Since before I arrived here." More coughing. "I thought at first it was just a tiny cough, but it hasn't gone away. And look here," She hiked up her nightdress and pointed to the insides of her upper thigh. "I have tokens on my legs. Feel 'em, they're hard as calluses!"

War looked and saw he was right. Damn it, he thought. For once, he was right about this kind of thing. Well, now he had to go and get a healer, but Lima was given an order by the Ebon Sai not to leave her post. The only other healers about were all angels, and they knew nothing of what could be done for someone with this kind of sickness. He needed a demon to help her. Karma needed a demonic healer, although War knew there was really no cure yet for this diabolical sickness.

"Go back to sleep. I was just checking up on you. When you next wake, I'll have a healer come look at you. You'll be fine." War said as he pulled her dress back down and made her to lay down again. "You'll be fine, just go back to sleep."

"Fine. But I think I know what's wrong. I don't want it to be true, but it's a circumstance out of my control." Karma said as she pulled the covers back up over herself. Her voice carried no fear, as if she knew that her ailment was a thing to come. War thought the way this child always seemed to know what was going to happen was borderline omniscience. She just knew, all the time, and it was starting to kind of creep him out. For a child to predict their own death was one this, but to invoke prophecy over and over? Why? Just... why?

"Oh well, I kind of saw it coming though." Karma shrugged her tiny shoulders and coughed more, sputtering blood into her little palms. "Never take things froma demon. That's what I get, I suppose. I stole it from her, father. I'm a stealer..."

She sounded genuinely disappointed in herself. Had she had been raised so well, by him for that matter? He had interrogated her after he had figured out just who she was and discovered that she had, in fact, came to this place using Chronomantic means of transportation. Her cousins, so she called them, had brought her here with them to help make things right for their future. She was, in fact, his own flesh and blood, and made it apparently so. She knew almost everything about him, from his personality to his most favored color.

Karma's soft laughter filled the quiet room. "Then again, I think I did a pretty good job. I have a Moonstone from her. And pewter stones. She stole those, I think. You know how rare Moonstones are, right? I have one now. It's in my little bag if you want to see it. Unless, of course, you're mad at me for stealing it..."

War waved away her concern. "Nevermind it. Just rest for now. You can show me later. Alright?"

She smiled and placed her tiny hand on top of his. Her thumb stroked his hand. "Alright, I'll rest if that would please you. But would you stay here until I fell asleep again? I had an awful nightmare, and I do think it might have been prophetic." Her soft eyes, half closed, made it near impossible to say no.

"Thank you, father. I dreamt you were attacked by a clown. Clowns are scary."

* * *

><p>"A BloodBorn, in the Kingdom of the Dead?" The Chancellor spoke as she approached. "Oh, this will never do. No no no... I'm sorry my dear, but I'm afraid your kind aren't welcome here..."<p>

Zodiac sneered, turning her nose up at the undead Chancellor. She remembered this man, a real pain in her neck, so to speak. Her father also had a distaste for him as well, and she knew why. He was a greedy, conniving, arrogant man, who demanded service as if her were a king. A creature of his prowess was none too close to a "king" so far as Zodiac was concerned. He was quite hostile with her as well, threatening her with feeble attempt to have her removed from his presence. As if he would attempt to preorm such a futile thing! He knew what she was, and Reapers were feared.

Even if they had yet to exist...

"I demand to speak with the Lord of Bones, old man. Now I'll make this simple: grant me passage, or I'll invite myself in." She hissed, but still, the words rasped elegantly through her parted blue lips.

He laughed at her, waving away her threats with an arrogant wave of his hand."Now, child, do not be so rash with your words. For such a lovley young lady such as yourself, it is very... unbecoming."

She hated how this man toyed with her. She had heard that he enjoyed toying with people. Simply because of her identity, she was no exception. In fact, she felt that her authority over him made her more of a target for his teasing than it would have had she been a normal Blooded. Alas, she was a Reaper, and now she regretted that coveted title. Of course, she had something to do, and not even this trollop would interfere. Her world was at stake.

"I need to speak with him, Chancellor... Now." She growled.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible. My lord attends to his realm. A child like you would never understand such a trying task..."

"I am no child!" Zodiac spat angrily, eyes hardening in iron resolve. "Let me speak to him at once, or I'll cut you down where you stand."

She reached to her hip and grasped the hilt of her long, thin scythe, taller than its wielder. It was a marvelous blade, crafted as if to resemble the wing of a huge beast. Its jagged, silver blade was chipped and scratched in some placed, but that did little to diminish its elegant look. She brought it forth, flowing like placid water, and held it to the Chancellor's throat.

"Grant me passage, old man. Now..." she hissed, hardly a breath.

There was silence. The only sound was the distant roar and screech of the Leviathan, the monstrous creatures that pulled the ghostly ship from the tree of Death to where the Lord of Bones resided. She held the Chancellor with her glare, at point of her blade in the lingering silence. Neither looked the least bit phased at the sudden move, but in the least bit, both parties looked to have anticipated such an act.

"Marvelously crafted blade you have there, child. Wherever did you receive it?" He asked, mockingly in tone.

"It's called Separator."

"That isn't what I asked." he growled. Zodiac found great satisfaction in his ill temper.

"But it's the answer you received. The universe works in strange ways."

The dead man scowled deeply from under his hood. As much as he hated Reapers, he hated their sarcasm. It reminded him much of the Horseman who appeared to him not so long ago, demanding to see the Lord of Bones just as this young thing was. Who does she think she is, coming in here and demanding to see his Lord without so much as a valid reason other than she wanted to speak with him? Not that he would have let her in anyway. Even still, why was she here now, he wondered. Never had a Reaper of the Blood appeared unto his presence, they didn't exist. Curiosity wormed its way into the Chancellor's mind as he mulled this fact over. She was of the Blood, she could smell it on her; rich and pure, the richest blood he had ever smelt.

A contemptible grin split his age-worn, ghoulish features. "I will grant you passage, my dear. But know this: I know you will not leave that Eternal Throne. You will surely die here." he said, tone carrying no warmth, or anything for that matter.

She held an emotionless face, a face her mother taught her, before her untimely death. She was fully aware that she would die, but she would not die alone. That blasted Rider of Death would surely follow her. He would die too. Or, so she read. She surmised that she would have to kill him. And she should, after what he had done to her and her brother. They were so young...

"I know. My death should be none of your concern, old man. Now if you will kindly excuse me, I will be speaking to your king now." She turned her nose up at him and strode away. "Good day, Chancellor."

* * *

><p>The moment he saw this mirage of a woman approach him, he was instantly and <em>hopelessly<em> in love. Perhaps, he thought, she might just be a ghost of some sort. That was nearly all that ever passed here; souls of those long since departed. All Draven ever saw anymore was souls, save Death who approached him not so long ago. But her- she was no ghost. She was a _vision_. She wore a ruffled clinging dress that did little to hide the perfection to her curvaceous figure, her perfect ringlets framed her soft white face flawlessly, and her eyes... were somewhat frightening. Icy blue on black wasn't a color scheme Draven was used to. Still, she was quite the sight.

As the mystery woman approached, Draven had to remind himself to draw a breath, lest he suddenly choke on air. The way her eyes never left the distant place behind him led him to believe the inevitable. She was definitely blind. Even still, those eyes were ferocious.

"Did the Chancellor send you, Miss?" Draven spoke in that tried voice of his. He couldn't help but look into her eyes as he spoke. Something about their icy blue intensity made him feel suddenly inferior.

"No. He simply granted me passage." She said in a mesmerizing sultry voice. It was smoky and had a faint rasp, but it was no less a pleasure to hear. "I am taking an audience with your Lord of Bones."

Draven head himself harrumph. How he despised the Lord of Bones. Sitting upon his throne, demanding services, toying with his subjects... He was a tyrannical ruler, so far as Draven was concerned. The woman asked him about his disdain for his undead ruler, to which Draven explained vehemently. She seemed to understand his reasons for hating the Lord of Bones so much, as she shared a similar tale about her disdain for her father. Draven understood her feelings of betrayal, and related to her story in many ways. In fact, they both shared the same pessimistic outlook on their existence because of those events.

He respected this woman. She had said that he should leave this place, though, and that before she descended into the Eternal Throne, she would offer him a means of transportation to a safer place than where he was now. Although curious of the reason as to why he had to vacate the premises, he was in no humor to argue. That, and to displease this fine lady was the last thing he wanted to do. She promised that he would get what he wished for, including the death of his tyrannical ruler, and perhaps the restoration of his life. The return of his soul's free will was all Draven really wanted, aside from stealing the crown of the one who had imprisoned him, but her offer was still one he could not afford to pass up.

She held up her promise and sent him away, not without telling him how she enjoyed his short company. He had asked for her name, to which he had only replied, "Zodiac" and told him that he, Sagittarius, would be just fine.

He would be fine?

What did that mean?


	19. Aries

**Alright, alright, here's where thing finally start getting good. Jesus, I suck at writing... But still! This is where I plan on bringing some major changes in to this fic! There will be feelz, possible ships, tears, maybe a sex scene, I have no idea, but we'll just have to see! I really hope I can get all of this done as soon as I can, without making the story cheesy, of course. Welp, I hope you all enjoy these coming chapters and your feedback means a lot to me!**

**Thanks a bunch!**

**-Gothika **❤ ❤ ❤

* * *

><p>Frangipani. It grew all over this place, all in great big patches and bushels and all over the trees that grew around the bubble. Their blue tips were prettier than most of the other flowers, Scout thought. They had a tiny bit of yellow to them, too, unlike most other plants in this world. More color. The fact that they had a splash of some warm color to them made them look all the more incredible. That, and just their shape. Scout paid very close attention to their details, finding them all lovely. The shape of the flowers, the way their petals overlapped one another, their color, the way that grew six or seven at a time. Even in the darkness of the pitch night, she could see them.<p>

Their petals fell slowly and gracefully onto and around the bubble, more so every passing day. Scout watched them all for hours. This was the seventh day. That kid was coming today, she could feel it in her gut. She swore to Azreal that she would be there when it emerged, and Azreal seemed fine with it, but told her to get him immediately after, to test the child and make sure she was fine. That nothing was wrong with her. Scout graciously accepted the condition, and every day since, was bent on being the first to see the angel emerge. It would be cool to see an angel be born. She just hoped it wasn't anything like a human birth.

Those are disgusting as fuck...

Still, she wanted to see it. If she was an angel, as she had been told, she thought it a divine birthright to witness the emergence of yet another family member. Azreal thought so too. Good thing, too. She would have done it anyway. She had no clue why, but she hardly ever listened to that man. Maybe because she loved to show him off so much. She had a thing about authoritative figures. She just loved making them feel less important that they thought (or knew) they were. She loved Azreal, with every fiber she had, but she loved to mess with him even more.

She had been sitting here all night, listening to the birds, the little frogs, and weird looking bugs that flew around. She sat there, all alone, all night, and waited. She thought again and again that it wouldn't happen, but then she would be reassured when the little bubble moved and she lit the small fire before it and moved behind it, seeing the small shape moving inside. It excited her. She was more than impatient to see whatever it was... Whatever it was...

It took about three more miserable hours of sitting and doing nothing until it finally happened. She had spent the longest time making little fires and such to keep her busy and to light her way in the pitch dark night, and keeping them lit so she could see the baby when it came. At first, she thought it was a few little bugs tat had landed on the bubble while she wasn't paying attention, but when she looked closer, she saw that they were, in fact, fingertips. Little fingers trying to poke themselves out of the bubble. They were timid at first, as if anxious of emerging into this new world, but as Scout came closer, it seemed more and more comfortable. At first,all Scout could see was fingers, then hands, then arms, until...

The poor thing.

She tried so hard to keep her balance, it looked like. It was a complete and utter failure, though. She simply toppled over onto her face. Phoenix brought a hand to her face, a loud slap resounding. She should have been watching more carefully. God damn it! Damn it all! Quickly, she pulled the small cloak that she wore off of herself and wrapped it around the little thing. the new baby.

Quickly, she thought, scoop her up and take her back home! Yes! This is totally happening! But wait! She didn't even know what she was doing! How was she supposed to take the baby all the way back to the temple without-

Oh shit, Azreal is nowhere to be seen.

"Well, then, baby! Looks like we're gonna be together for a bit. Uh... can you... talk?" She asked, not having a clue what she was doing. Even still, the little thing said not a word. She looked shyly up at her instead, locking eyes with big red ones.

Oh god, this one was adorable. Teal eyes sat in delicate almond-shaped sockets on a soft, fair and freckled face, which was framed by strawberry blonde hair that fell straight as a board against her neck and shoulders. She looked so sweet, and her little wings were the cutest thing she had ever seen. It was official now: Angel babies are cuter than Asian babies. No doubt about it.

"Well then, I think I have the perfect name for you. I shall call you, Frangipani Grace. The friggin perfect name!" She laughed, holding the child up from under her arms. This kid had watched The Lion King a bit too much. _Way too much._ To think this was the appropriate way to initiate the child into her life was absolute stupidity at its finest. Yes, if anyone was to see her now, they would think her an idiot.

She decided, still, Frangipani was the best name for this little ankle-biter. Those were the beautiful flowers that bloomed all around her birthplace. At first, those flowers weren't even there, but Azreal said that the energy coming from the bubble she was developing from radiates a special kind of magic. He calls it a fraction of power compared to that of the actual magic of Creation, which is much more stronger. Even still, that magic is what created those flowers. Frangipani didn't grow here, not on this world. She had asked Sabrina when she saw her a short moment, and she debunked the idea of Frangipani growing here on its own. There simply was no logical reason other than this bubble put them there.

So, Frangipani, after the flowers that bloomed after the bubble appeared, and Grace because, well, she was an angel. It just had a wonderful ring to it, so Scout thought. She looked like a Frangipani, too. Most angels looked very much the same. There were hardly any redheads, brunettes, or raven-headed angels running around. Maybe about a handful. Most were blonde or silver headed. This little one was unique. She was special.

"Come on, say something." Scout teased, poking at the kid's cheeks. She looked like a three-year-old by human standards. Even still, she was too quiet. "Tell me your name. Frangipani. Can you say that? Fran-Ja-Pan-Nee?"

"...Fff~... Furrr.."

"Yeah, come on... It's not that hard... You angels are smart... You got this." Scout egged on as she poked and poked and poked.

Frangipani grimaced and brought her tiny arms forth, shoving Scout's hand away. "Stop!" her little untried voice cracked. It was so fucking cute. "Stop,stop, stop, stop, stop!"

"NO! Not until you tell me your name!" Scout said, laughing more and more. She started poking her under her chin and on her stomach, drawing out adorable laughter from the angel.

"It is Frangipani! I am Frangipani!" she squeaked thought fits of giggles. "Please stop! It tickles!"

Phoenix stopped, but that did nothing to stop the laughter. They both carried on a little while after that. Still, the two walked together. Scout would often ask Frangipani to stop and flutter her wings a bit, which she did accomplish, as they made their way to the temple. She asked Frangipani to point out certain colors and stuff, for reasons she could not explain. She just felt like she needed to ask. She was well with colors and sorts. She even stopped to point out a few alien things in the forests that not even Phoenix sensed were there. She was active, bright, and very curious as to what went on around her. As would a child be expected to be.

Scout was excited for her to meet Azreal. He did seem a bit nervous at first, when they discovered the bubble about a week ago, but as the days passed by, and nothing out of the ordinary, other than Firebird sighting all over the place, he decided to loosen up a bit. He seemed excited this morning. Because of the baby, no doubt. Who wouldn't be excited for a new baby?

* * *

><p>Azreal laid curled up in his bed, sound asleep as he normally was at this time of day. It was very early in the morning for him, and he wasn't normally the earliest riser. He took some satisfaction in a full night's rest, unlike most angels. But now, he was being disturbed.<p>

He first felt a small weight on his bed beside of him. Probably a little restless Shifter. Since Uriel was asked by the Ebon Sai, no one has seen her. Pantera was very troubled that her person was gone, and started sleeping at his bedside ever since. He knew, though, that Uriel was just fine, now. So, with this sudden intrusion, he paid it no mind.

It was until a sudden, much heavier weight crushed him from above that her awoke. That, and the shouting for him to wake up by what sounded like two parties. His eyes popped open, a loud grunt escaping from his throat as Phoenix dove onto him, landing on her belly on his back. She was heavier than she looked. _M__uch _heavier. To Azreal, she weighed, like a hundred pounds! Lord, this child was heavy, and for her to just jump onto his back like this? It felt like she was trying to crush the life out of him. He felt the sudden pain shoot throughout his lungs and into his wings. Scout was crushing them, too.

"WAKE UP, AZREAL!" was the sound that shrieked into his head as she wrapped an arm around his throat and mussed her hair all about. What in Heaven's name was this child doing? She was trying to kill him, apparently.

"PHOENIX! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME- ACH! GET OFF, NOW!" Azreal found himself shouting. It felt so unnatural to him for him to ever raise his voice, but ever since Phoenix came into his life, he found he had been yelling more often. As of now, though, yelling at her came with great difficulty.

"Hey, look who decided to finally show up!" Phoenix grinned and rolled off of his back, and he felt the other sudden weight in front of him. A child. An angel child.

This was a nameless face to Azreal. The strawberry blonde hair, teal eyes. It took his brain a moment to process that this was the expected child that emerged from the bubble everyone had been watching so closely for the past few days. Had Phoenix not been in such a fit about being the first to see her emerge, Azreal would have known this sooner. In fact, had she actually _let_ him look at the bubble the night before, he would have surmised that she was almost ready, and waited with Scout. But no. She was the only one who wanted to see it. Azreal argued until he was blue in the face, but it was to no avail. She was too stubborn to even let him look at the bubble. She wanted to see it, nobody else.

Children.

"This, my dearest Godfather, is Frangipani Grace: The newest member of our family!" Scout declared as she scooped the little thing into her arms.

Azreal's brows scrunched together as he stared at the child. With one hand, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Frangipani?" he managed to say. His voice sounded awful to him.

"Frangipani."

"You named her after a flower?" he asked, mentioning for Phoenix to hand her over to him. Scout had the little angel sit close by so he could get a better look at her. The little thing was wrapped up rather nicely in what looked like Scout's bed sheet. She tied it over one of Frangipani's shoulders, passing it off for a makeshift dress. The black satin hung in a toga-like fashion all around her tiny body. Azreal looked into her teal eyes. She stared into his Ivory ones.

"You're named after a flower, you poor thing~" He muttered in a small laugh, hugging the child.

"She's smart, too. She already knows colors, shapes, her wings can move, she talks, she has this adorable thing where her eyes cross sometimes~" Scout rambled.

"Good. It's normal when their eyes cross for a little while. That normally stops after a few days." Azreal said as he sat himself further up. He wore nothing but his trousers. He sat there and listened as Scout talked, observing the little one further. It seemed as though Scout had already assessed the main tests preformed at an angel's birth: She tested her speech, made sure she wasn't colorblind, tested the usage of her wings, and her inquiry. Azreal had asked how she had known how to ask her all of the questions she had, but Scout didn't know why. She just did. The tests just came naturally to her.

Like father, like daughter.

* * *

><p>Pantera growled and paced in place. She was so worried about Uriel. Where had she gone?! One minute, she was there, reading at her desk, and then next moment, Pantera was asleep and she was gone! She had no clue what happened to her, and when she tried to follow her scent, it only ran her into a wall. This was absolutely ridiculous! Her person was gone and there was a wall in her way! She wished this hadn't happened, wished she hadn't fallen asleep. She wanted Uriel here.<p>

That, and she was hungry.

For the past few days, she hadn't really eaten. She had sat in front of that wall, whimpering and whining, waiting for Uriel to come back for her. Had she just left her, she wondered. She remembered when Mistress Josephone would leave her all alone for days, in that dark scary room. The things she heard in that room late in the night frightened her. Voices, screaming and whispering things she couldn't understand. They were so quiet, but as time passed, they seemed to get louder and louder. She wished Uriel would come back. She had sat here for days and did nothing but cry and wait for her. Crying and waiting. Wishing and whining.

Securii exited the window on the far side of the long hallway and stretched out her haunches. Like a cat, she arched her back and rolled her shoulders back, her fuzzy tail stretching out too, shuddering with the effort. This place was so boring. She found herself napping more often. Napping when she should be alert. They all said she had a purpose to serve here, that she could return to the Forge Lands as soon as possible, but this was far too long. She had to get back. The pups... They needed her. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach. She had been gone for too long.

She was getting angrier the more she thought more of it. She was supposed to be back now. Back home, in her cave, with the pups, before something happened to them. She hoped they were alright, hoped they haven't starved yet. She had killed plenty of things for them before she left, but she thought she would be gone at leats a week. This would be the third week she had been here. She needed to get back. She needed to get back to her pups.

She needed to eat.

Her stomach growled up at her. She hadn't eaten in a few days. She only ate when she absolutely needed to, as was her habit as a mother to six hungry pups. Now, though, she was aware that she should eat, lest she lose her energy and sleep some more. Maybe she should go back outside, but just as she moved to do so, a whine had caught her attention. A Shifter whine. It sounded like Suri. Her head snapped from the open window to the seemingly empty hallway quick enough to break her neck.

Pantera sniffed with a whine. The sound of clawed paws tupped her way, but she paid it no mind. It was when she felt that nudge on her back that she bothered to pay the person any mind. She was far too depressed right now to care about anything.

_"Little one? What are you crying about?"_ a fellow Shifter asked. She sat crouched beside of Pantera, so not to intimidate her. Normally, Shifter pups were terrified of another older Shifter, especially one they didn't know, since they could be eaten, but now, this one seemed indifferent. Depressed.

_"My person has disappeared. I have no idea where she could be. She is gone, and I miss her, and I am sad..."_

_"Uriel?"_

_"Yes. She is my person, and now she is gone. Her scent stops here, and my claws are not sharp enough to scratch through these walls."_

Securii knew what happened here. She explained to Pantera that Uriel was simply down in the temple's Exaltion Tomb, preparing herself for the coming battle. She said that as well as the mother Shifter, she was a seer, and saw that Uriel was alright. That she would return in a matter of days. She explained to Pantera that everything would be fine and that she would see Uriel again very soon. But, despite all of that, Pantera still moped and whimpered.

She knew that look all too well. She just missed her person so much. She saw it almost every time she arrived back at her cave, and those pups hadn't seen her in days after hunting. That look of separation. It killed her to see that face, now. It made her miss her litter even more.

_"You look famished, little one." _Securii said as she licked Pantera's ear. It reminded her about how her mamma would do that when she was a little tiefling. _"How about you come with me to get something to eat, and then I'll wait with you when we get back?"_

Pantera rubbed the wetness away from her eye with her paw. She was very hungry. Maybe she should take a leave of absence, just so she could eat and get back. And still, Securii said she would stay with her afterwords and wait. That would make her feel better, to have someone with her. The only times she really had some company was at night, with Azreal. But he would sleep. Uriel would stay up for a while and pet Pantera, read to her. And even though she couldn't understand Uriel, it still felt good to have her talk to her. It made her feel like someone actually loved her, loved having her near.

_"I guess so... I am really hungry."_

_"I know. I practically heard your stomach from down the hall!" _Securii laughed.

It felt good to have Securii here. As it might have felt good to have Pantera near. The two absconded from the window and made their way into the forest, and for once in a few days, Pantera didn't feel so alone anymore. She was hungrier than she had been in a long time, but she wasn't alone. That happened a lot in this place, she realized. Everyone had someone. Nobody was ever really alone.

Nobody was ever, really, alone.

* * *

><p>Phoenix picked her up and handed her over to Olivia, who almost instantly set her back down. Angels didn't normally hold their young, and it was a bit awkward for her. Frangipani bit her tongue to keep from throwing a fit. She didn't want Olivia, she wanted Phoenix. She liked being held, so she walked away, right back to Phoenix. The strong blonde thing hugged her tight. Frangipani looked down at the huge sword at her hip. She carried it with her all the time. It was a pretty looking sword, but Phoenix had told her that she shouldn't try to mess with it. It was dangerous.<p>

She held her arms up at Scout with a little whine. Phoenix smiled and picked her up again, slinging her around her to cling to her back. Piggy-back, she called it. She played with Phoenix's pretty blonde curls and waves, drawing out giggles from her.

Olivia made a screwed up face as she watched how Scout interacted with the child. "Why do you carry her all of the time? She has perfectly good legs, you know."

"Pfft~ I'll hold my baby however I want."

"She isn't _your_ baby. She isn't even a baby, technically. A baby is an infant, smaller than Frangipani, here. She's a child. Perfectly capable of walking on her own."

Phoenix jerked herself forward, getting Frangipani higher up on her back. "To me, she's a baby. And I'm sorry that you angels were neglected the affections of a human parent, but I was too, and even I know what the fuck I'm doing. So if you wanna keep your position as mommy number two, I suggest you not tell me how to do my job."

Olivia fumed. Despite being kind of right, she was wrong. Angels were not neglected affections at a young age. They just weren't babied. Angels had mentors, not parents. They didn't cuddle or hug-bump, or whatever Scout called it. They were strictly mentors. Plain and simple.

"Can I just say something in my defense?" Olivia asked, frustration restrained.

"No."

"I was never neglected affections as a child. I was simply treated as a child. Not a baby. There's a difference."

"I don't care." she said as the little angel's arms circled her neck. "My point is, you need to loosen up a bit. She's just a kid, after all. And she should be treated as such. I seen a lot of kids being carried by their parents, so I see nothing wrong with this at all. Maybe you should just give it a try?"

Olivia shook her head. "Frangipani doesn't seem to like me as much as she does you. I think she's better off in your care..."

"Aww, come on! Just hold her for a little while!" Scout urged, twirling the little thing around her and holding her out at an arm's length. Olivia wanted to shout at Phoenix, _don't hold her like that! Stop this right now, hold her right! _She knew though, that she wouldn't.

Before Olivia could summon another thought, Phoenix had already tossed Frangipani into her arms. By instinct, she caught her, holding her under her arms just as the other had done. _Oh no! No no no! _Quickly, she put an arm under the child's legs and the other behind her back. She suddenly felt very awkward. She'd never held a child before, nor did she have much experience in interacting with those younger than she, so this was a bit of a first for her. She knew, when she looked into those teal eyes and saw that the little one was sticking her tongue out at her, that this kid was going to follow Phoenix like a damned shadow. She was starting to act like her. Crude and a bit temperamental. That was not a good thing, in Olivia's eyes. But if being like Scout meant that she would be loyal, kind, fearless, and strong, hell, copy her every move, then.

She found herself smiling now that she saw it, that little spark that Phoenix had in her eyes. Frangipani had it, too. That special something that was there deep inside that made her special, made her different from the rest of her kind. She was no ordinary angel, Olivia decided. She was something more. She had the wings of an angel, the blood of an angel, and the looks of one, but she was no angel. She was something wonderful. Something special.

Something exciting.


	20. Taurus

_Caught a ride with the moon,_  
><em>I know I know you well, well better than I used to.<em>  
><em>Haze all clouded up my mind,<em>  
><em>In the daze of the why it could've never been.<em>  
><em>So you say, and I say, you know you're full of wish,<em>  
><em>And your "baby, baby, baby, babies~"<em>  
><em>I tell you there are pieces of me you've never seen,<em>  
><em>Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen.<em>

-Tori Amos, Tear in Your Hand

* * *

><p>Phoenix peeked her head into the Library door. Unbidden, a smile came her lips when she saw Azreal smile back at her, his nose buried in a book. He probably pondered some thought a wise, old man like him would be thinking. Nodding and waving her over, his straight-as-a-board silver hair brushed around his shoulders. he braced himself as she came running over, leaping over and hugging him from his side. A slight pain shot through his wings as she crushed it to his side, but he managed to wiggle its feathers free of her weight. He knew she was rough, especially with him, but he paid it no mind. He knew it was simply her show of affections. He thought in the whole of his life that he would never experience those affections, he felt after what he had done, he didn't deserve them. But now, he stood here, alongside the fruit of his closest friend's loins, and shared her company.<p>

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She asked looking at the age-worn scrolls and tomes that lain all over the place on Azreal's black marble desk.

"Not yet I haven't... Prophecies are much more complicated than you might think. I've managed to deciphered a few, but when I try to piece them together, it doesn't make sense. I think there's something missing..." He replied, focusing on the scroll in his hand.

"Yeah, I can see why-" Scout said as she pointed, leaning on Azreal's shoulder. "-there's a huge blank space here."

Azreal rested his chin on his fist and itched his neck. Something was definitely missing. Scout looked with him. She was clever, perhaps she would be of help. With that in mind, he had her sit beside of him and read the passage aloud to her.

_If the Proxie Magdna should bring light to the Shaurna's endless rain, the Firebird will emerge and perch itself on the hearts of those who see it. Its song will purge out the hate in their hearts, and fill them, instead, with hope. The Firestorm will turn the tides on the coming war..._

_On the Seventh day of the Shaurna's light, the child will emerge... the beacon will draw the shadows from their hiding, henceforth bringing the Laughing Death to the temple... There, the Laughter will claim the lives of a choice few, sending them to the Dream Realm until their souls are retrieved from the City of the Dead, pried from the cold hands of the BloodBorn Reaper herself... She will kill Death, and The Proxie Magdna will fall, unless Death kills the BloodBorn Reaper, which will open the gate for the blackness to emerge from her heart... The FirstBorn Ebon Sai will emerge and purge the darkness from the Shaurna... and then there will be war..._

_Look to the light, for the Laughing Death will not fail in its attempt to steal lives. It will not fail, so long as the light is alive. Find the light, preserve the light, keep her heart from Shadows. The bearers of the title, "Enforcers" will all fall, and the one in black will destroy the Ebon Sai. In her blood will come the Calling, and she shall rise again, more powerful than ever before... Her, along with the Firstborn, will purge the darkness from the Shaurna, thus rekindling the life of the Shadows in their lair. They will multiply. There will be millions. The Light and Fire will be outnumbered..._

_Blank space._

_Once the Bastions of Exaltion will come forth, joining the Phoenix and her army, and together will summon the firestorm... The LifeFire will consume all in it's path, reaking the ultimate destruction. Michael will meet his brother on the chosen field of battle and one will kill the other... _

There was a few scratches that neither Azreal or Phoenix recognized as handwriting after that last passage, but then the words that followed were chilling.

_The outcome of this battle has been witnessed by nearly all of our Prophets. I fear it can not be documented, lest whomever reads this lose their minds. However, I, as an Archon, know that in the hands of our Primordial rulers, we shall be spared. In the Fire we thrive, in the Light we are saved, in Order and Chaos we are humbled, and in Life and Death, we are made anew. If only I could be like our Prophets, and see what is to become of the Three Kingdoms. But alas, I lack the gift._

_Surley, we are all safe in the Phoenix's hands._

_- Archon Lucien_

Well, this was news. Azreal honestly hadn't known that Lucien actively believed in the Primordials before this, and when he read the passage, he found this revelation a bit startling. He knew Lucien as the prideful and arrogant leader of the Scriptorium, as well as a good companion. Phoenix had no clue who this Lucien fool was, but she somehow got the feeling she would know about him pretty soon, if not by Azreal's accounts, then by a face-to-face encounter. How she knew this, she would never know, but she knew. She supposed it must be a natural reflex she had when someone spoke about her blood. She always got this funny feeling that whenever someone brought up another angel, especially one she didn't know, she got this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. And she should have. Lucien was one of the few who knew her before.

"I only pieced together what I could, but I still have no idea what this scroll means when it mentions the Bastions of Exaltion. Bastions are towers, Phoenix, and here it's pretty much saying that four towers are going to join us in battle and summon a raging storm of LifeFire. I just don't understand it..." Azreal said, sounding more defeated than he ever had.

She pondered on it. It would be cool to have a bunch of towers fight alongside her, but then again, that would probably never happen. She reread the passage again and again, even when Azreal put it aside and moved on to another scroll. She thought harder on it as she read. _Look to the light. _Look to the light. Maybe... Maybe that wasn't part of the prophecies. Maybe they were instructions! She turned her head from the scroll in her hands to the window. The curtains were drawn closed. Azreal's only light source was a bright blue lamp.

"Hey Azreal," She said as she moved to the closed window. "You should really get more light in here."

Azreal winced when she threw the curtains open, golden shafts of sunlight suddenly stinging his eyes. When he next looked he saw that she was unrolling the scroll he had given her. She had that look in her eye. A plan. An idea. She held the scroll out in front of her at an arm's length and looked up into it. She stared for a second, before her eyes seemed to have caught something. That look was priceless.

"Azreal! C'mere! I found something!" She called as she frantically waved him over to the far side of the room, to which the Angel of Death nearly shot up out of his seat. Where she looked, he looked. And he, too, was stunned.

"What is that?" She asked, holding it up for the both of them to see. The sunlight breached through the age-worn papers, making both parties seem to glow. They way they looked up at the scroll was as if the Creator himself was staring through that paper right at them.

"It's the Seventh Seal." Azreal breathed as he took the scroll in his own hands. He knew that blasted seal anywhere. And he knew what it meant. Scout however, didn't.

"Seventh Seal? What's that? What's it mean?!"

"It is a symbol of the Four Horsemen. When that seal is broken, it summons them. Phoenix, this is wonderful!" He said as he dropped the scroll and grabbed the sides of her face, kissing her nose. "You are a genius! Do you know what this means?"

"No, I was kind of waiting for you to tell me..."

"That picture tells us just who the Four Bastions are, Phoenix. The ones who are to fight alongside you and help you to summon the LifeFire. Phoenix, it's the Four Horsemen."

* * *

><p>"Look through the ball, and you will see it. It will be marvelous. Watch it all again. The explosion. The fire. The water and fire and color and light. The winds quiet for her. Creation quakes at her presence. Death and Life and Order and Chaos all bow before her fury. She is the Firebird. The Princess of Wrath. Fist over all that is war and battle. Even in the smallest of squabbles, she is there. She is the fire that ignites within the hearts of her chosen, and all others."<p>

This voice was everywhere, and yet, it was nowhere. Throughout the halls of the Wayward Palace, in her eras, in her head. It was all over. Ever since Eris agreed to bring the Phoenix back, she had been talking about her. Asking how she was doing, what was happening to her. She was very concerned for her well being, as a mother should be. It was rare for an Exalted to speak directly to their patrons, or any other Primordial for that matter, but here, The Phoenix spoke to Eris often. Very often. Whenever the Queen of Chaos felt that she had a moment to herself to brood, she was interrupted by the voice of the Primordial Warrior Mother. The topic was always about her baby. Always.

Eris sat curled up in a nest of satin sheets and held the glass orb to herself. She was without the magic as of now, and couldn't see her, but when she last saw Phoenix, she saw that she was with Azreal. She was smiling. She looked happy. She told as much to The Phoenix herself, and she had never heard the Primordial's voice so happy. Even now, she could still see that smile. Even when she closed her eyes, she could see her, could hear the voice behind that smile.

The Wayward palace was a magnificently chaotic structure woven up of all kinds of precious stones. Its towers and bastions were the tallest pieces of emerald and sapphire anyone would have ever seen, all topped with leaded glass peaks. The main part of the palace was a massive structure of white stone, set back quite a distance from the elegantly paved brick road. It seemed to be broken off in most places, only to have those few rooms and corridors levitate periodically around the palace. It had many tall windows that let ample amounts of sun into her home. Eris loved to lay naked in the sunlight, so this was a huge plus for her. Colorful slates in every color sat in a variety of angles and rakes came in complicated junctures. The walkway, which consisted of black and white checked tiles, was shaded; hooded from the crystal blue sky above.

In her nest, Eris pondered. She rested her head on her arms and stared out at the expansive stretch of flower fields. The chatter and trilling of every bird imaginable willed the halls now that Phoenix decided to be quiet. She loved birds, more than anything. She obsessed with collecting them. But at times like these, she wished they were all mute. She could hardy hear herself think.

With that in mind, she sat up and stretched. Her wings fluttered quickly, stretching the muscles in them. In a few moments, she was off and buzzing about. Unlike most angels, who had a slow and steady wing beat, her wings fluttered more like that of a Trochilidae, a hummingbird. They buzzed wherever she went. She pondered going to the roof, but while she was on her way there, she suddenly forgot what it was she planned on doing. That happened a lot. Since her Exaltion, her memories were scattered all over her mind. She could hardly remember anything anymore. She remembered much, but she was still a horrible scatter-brain. She found that she was talking to herself much more after that, too. Indeed, she was crazy, but the fault is not hers.

"What was I doing?" She asked out loud as she hovered in place over the dead center of a black and white spiral floor. She brushed her golden blonde ringlets out of her eyes and parted it crazily to one side. Those curls... They were more trouble than they were worth. "I have no idea what I was doing... I thought I was going out to go and- Oh no, wait! It's noon, I believe! I should try and speak with Sammy! Was... was that what I was going to do?"

* * *

><p>"Slow down, brat. I have no idea what you are trying to say to me..." Strife grumbled, rolling Mercy through his hands, as he nothing better to do. That damn child just came out of nowhere, running up to him and telling how she would protect him with her life, something about him being a bastion, and saying that she would make sure he and his brothers would be okay. What the hell was that noise all about? Strife couldn't stand this child. He really couldn't. She talked too much, she was defiant as hell, she was rude, sarcastic, and too boyish for her own good.<p>

Then again, does Strife have any real room to talk?

Panting, the little blonde this put her hands on her knees and bent herself over. _Catch your breath_, he thought, _but I don't have all damn day. _She looked up at him, the faint sheen of freckles that normally bridged her nose gone beneath the redness. Honestly, Strife had no clue what everyone was gushing about when it came to her. All of those blasted angles went on and on about how attractive she was. She was plain, at best, but that was his opinion. Her eyes were too big for his liking. They were... creepy sometimes.

"There's... there's some... thing really... really important that you... and your brothers... play a part in!" She huffed between labored breaths. She had obviously been running around all over searching for the Horsemen.

"What are you talking about, girl? This is a waste of my time!" Strife growled, turning away from her in an attempt to leave. Just walk away, but she had to scramble in front of him and walk back backwards. She just _had _to keep talking, didn't she?

"It's really important, though! Azreal and me read something about it, but he said to keep most of it on the down-low. I can only promise to protect you until it's time!" She said. "Why don't you talk to your sister about it! The spider one?" She referred to the strange Nephilim with the said eight eyes. She had never seen er eight eyes, but Ergo mentioned that she indeed had them.

"Phobia is deranged. There is no point in asking her about anything. Her terror rent her mind, she is broken beyond repair. There's no point in talking to her anymore. I'm surprised she even remembers who she is." He grumbled.

This, was a facade. He remembered Phobia all too well. He was her Protector at one point in his life. He pitied her, but feared her and her power. Her visions were even more terrifying. But Phobia was a sweet woman. The only thing wrong with her was her unyielding terror of everything around her. Her paranoia was what got her exiled in the first place, since it got her into more trouble than she was worth. It hurt more to recall the memories that his sister resurrected, and even more so to simply undermine her right there.

It seemed as though Phoenix knew that, too.

"You don't fool me for a second, jerk. How stupid do you think I am? Ergo told me everything about you two. You were her most trustworthy friend, and you protected her. Now, you're just dissing her? What the fuck is wrong with you? You're a huge dick, you know that? I'm pretty sure you do. Well, I'm not going to argue with you, jerkwad. Just go and talk to your sister. She'll tell you what's up."

Strife shut her out after that. He didn't bother to listen to what she had to say. She was a child, after all. An ignorant little gnat trying to order around one of the Four. Who did this kid think she was? Surely, he would not stoop to the level of taking orders from mindless children. Still, he felt he should visit Phobia. If the claims from Vindictus were true, she never left her room. Strife expected as much. She was too afraid that something horrid would happen to her. That was her, of course. He remembered how he would walk with her, assuring her every so often that she need not fear what's happening around her. That she had some control over some situations. He had tried to teach her that she, too, could be brave, but those attempts proved to be in vain.

Phobia was deranged. He didn't want to be the one to blind her, but it was for her own good. He had no choice, really, if he wanted her to stay sane, and better yet, others safe. She was always terrified, and that made her a threat to herself and others around her. As her Protector, it was Strife's responsibility to see that she was kept in line at all times. Nephilim, although primitive, tried their hardest to look out for one another. War was Penumbra's Protector, Strife was Phobia's, Death was Harania's, and Fury was Nova's. Those who were Protectors proved to be exceptional companions to their person. If memory served, Fury and Nova were the best of friends.

When Phobia wasn't screaming and crying in terror, she was staring blankly off at nothing. Her Exaltion killed her. It physically harmed her, and that was not something Strife could protect her from. It always enraged him that he could never do so to keep her safe. He could lock her away, purge her mind of absolutely everything there was for her to remember, and still, she would not be safe. It was a disease in her case. A disease of raw dark power. When he arrived at her room, he had to remind himself to knock, lest he give his sister a heart attack. Of course, her received no answer. With a finger, he tilted the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. He heard a squeal. Same old Phobia. He peeked his head in through the cracked door into a dark room. The curtains were drawn, the lamps were snuffed out, and it was complete darkness.

She looked livid with fear. He could not see her eyes, but he knew what they would have looked like. He remembered that look. He had seen it enough. Even after all these millennia, he remembered those eyes. Strife completely opened the door and took a step inside. He tried to sound calm for her, as he used to have done, but now, he seemed more distraught. He knew not why.

"Phobia? It's your brother, Strife." Quietly, he shut the door behind him. "You remember me, don't you?"

No answer came, and so he stepped closer into the pitch dark room. He remembered that there were light orbs scattered about this place, so he moved about in search of one. When he touched it, both he and his sister were startled by its sudden pale blue light. He held the orb out in front of himself and followed the sounds of her forlorn whimpers. The room was empty, save a few chairs, a bed, a desk, and a shaking woman, cowering in the corner.

"Phobia, it's alright. Do not be afraid. It's only me."

Phobia peered up from her lap. Her blinders concealed her eyes, but Strife knew she could see him. "S-Strife?"

"That's right."

Phobia scurried across the floor on her hands and knees. Through her sheer attire, he could see purple and yellow bruises on her neck and legs. Huge black and blue ones on her stomach and arms, and about a dozen cuts on her face. Even over her grey skin, they stood out.

He had to control himself, lest he run over and try to console her, as he had done so long ago. He didn't have to. She came to him. She quickly circled her thin arms around his muscular frame. He stood rigidly while she embraced him. It was a painful feeling, as much as it was pleasing. "Phobia, what has happened here? Have you fallen asleep? You know what happens when you fall asleep!"

"I know, I know! But I have tried! Believe me, brother! I have tried! But the longer I tried, the more tired I became! It got to the point where I fell asleep and could not wake myself up. I was terrified. My patron was so enraged at me, she tortured me in my sleep! It was awful, Strife! Simply awful!" she wept.

"Listen, I need to ask you something," he started, placing his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to sit on the floor in front of him. He sat on his heels before her and never once removed his hands. "Perhaps you can help me to figure something out."

She stopped her sniffling long enough to nod a weak and shaky yes.

"Good. Listen to me, the Phoenix came to me earlier and mentioned something about Bastions and Exaltion. She said you might know something about what that means?"

Strife didn't have to remove her blinders to see that she was blinking furiously. She knew what he was talking about. She stopped shaking for a moment. "Did she say Bastions of Exaltion?"

"Yes. What do you know about them?"

"Not much. I just know it is a group of four who supposed to be a combination of multiple Primordials in one body." She paused a moment to scan the empty room around her. The paranoia was part of her whole personality. "If she mentioned it to you, that mus mean that bad things are going to start happening."

"By that,you mean people are going to start dying?"

"Not just people, brother. You. You will die. If I'm not mistaken, every Nephilim here will die."


	21. Gemini

It was at first the crack and clatter of ancient bones and scattering dust that greeted Zodiac upon her arrival. The wretched sounds of the Lord of Bones awakening. No doubt, this would be a most unpleasant confrontation. If that damn Lord wasn't enough, she hated this place. The Eternal Throne was anything but a spectacle. The scenery was dull, the smell was stale, if not dank, and everything which possessed the remnants of what she could detect of aura was drab and pale.

Zodiac, although blind, possessed a great gift: Aura Sight. The ability to see lifeforms from great a distance away, just by seeing their life force, their spiritual energy. Normally, her mind was clouded with the colorful presences of life, though in her time, many hung over the edge of death, but even still, their life forces were delightful to see. Their optimism, their grief, remorse, hatred, conniving, arrogance, wrath, love, passion, timidity. All of those were considered pleasurable sensations to her. What was even better was when those hues and glows all came together to form that individual person. During her whole life, she had never seen the same lights from within someone. Everyone had a special light about them, something that made them unique. She loved experiencing that, loved knowing all about a person's person before she even knew their names. But even when she didn't know their names, she knew their sign.

She had been in a state of boredom ever since she stepped foot into the Kingdom of the Dead, save the short time when she spoke to that lovely fellow, Draven. This place made her feel like she as if she were wandering in the belly of some giant beast. She knew, now, that she would have a bit of a spat with the Lord of Bones now that he was awakened. She could already hear it now...

"You, child, stink of the living. Who are you and what do you want?" the ancient and bitter voice rasped. She already despised him.

She donned the emotionless mask her mother had taught her. A mask that concealed everything inside of her. "I am here to take your place, old man. Your time is over." She said rigidly. She stood with her back straight and her eyes halfway closed. Her scythe hung easily at her hip, accenting her form in a slight way.

The age worn and bony face took the smallest hint of her threat and hinted a smile. Or a smirk was it? She couldn't tell. She was blind.

"And how do you seek to do that, dearest? You are but a child in the realm of beings much more powerful and experienced than you!" the Lord of Bones wheezed a laugh.

"Look again, you fool. I am not just a child. I am not even that. Look again, and you will see." She retorted as she folded her arms over her chest. She shifted her weight to one foot, leaning herself more so on her left leg.

The dead lord saw this and thought. He knew her power from somewhere. He knew that feeling of cold magic that radiated from her young beauty was all that was intriguing about her. She had an air of wisdom about her that made her seem like that of a Goddess. That, and some familiarity. He felt he had seen that face of hers before, that her knew who she was. He knew not why, but she looked like someone he knew.

"You are trying my patience, child. Speak your business or I shall lay waste to you." A grin split the dead king's features; a horrid sight. "T'would be a shame to destroy such a lovely looking young woman..."

"I told you, Lord, I am here to replace you." were the words that came as she drew her weapon. From that ghastly scythe, sparks of pale blue lightening emerged, threading through one another and arching this way and that. With a contemptible sneer, she shoved the tip of her scythe toward the old man, who had no real time to react to her attack. Lightning spewed everywhere. Through her fingers. Through the weapon. Through the now wailing Lord of Bones.

And then it was over.

He was gone.

Time to begin.

* * *

><p>"I really don't like this place, Atrocor." Ivory said as she stared out at the dull greenish-grey skies of the Kingdom of the Dead. This place made her sick. The smells, the sights, and worst of all, the Leviathans. They terrified her. She had never imagined that she would see such horrifyingly huge monsters in all of her life. Atrocor had told her not to be weary of them, for they would do no harm unless she should venture to their mouths, which in her case, was near impossible. That made her feel no better, but it was the best he could do, she could tell.<p>

She had asked what it was they were doing there, and Atrocor had only said that their plans were all coming to an end. That there worried her more than anything he had ever said. If his plans were coming to an end, what did that mean for him? What did it mean for them? She loved him something fierce and she didn't want to lose him. She understood, though, that if that was what it came to, she may have to deal with it.

As they arrived at the entrance to the Eternal Throne, Atrocor paced through the stone cobble clearing with his chin in his hand. Nervously, he searched his surroundings. Ivory wondered why he looked so nervous, he had hardly spoken to her the entire trip here. She just sat along the wall, waiting quietly for something to happen... Anything to happen, really.

Even with the gathering dark, brooding clouds, an eerie calm hung over the whole of the Dead Kingdom. Ivory cast uneasy eyes skyward. Atrocor's black cloak hung limp in the unnaturally still air. After they sat there, doing absolutely nothing for an entire two hours, she asked him what might be causing their delay. She recalled him saying that he would wait for his sister to send him a message via her telepathic powers. She had yet to do that. Her question was ignored, however.

These past few days, Atrocor had become more and more distant. They were once so close; he had said on many occasions that he loved her. Those words made her insides roil in strange tingling sensations she never imagined she would experience in her whole life. She loved him too, but now... Now it was like he was trying to ignore her.

He seemed more depressed these past few days. Like there was something coming he knew he wasn't prepared for, and this caused him to be distraught. As the days stretched on, he seemed to get more and more discombobulated. She had asked him time and time again if he would just talk to her about things, but he would never do it. He just seemed to shut down.

In the fading light, the Eternal Throne was only a ghostly shape, the bones of some long dead monster, waiting to come back to life and swallow her up. The leaden clouds hid the full moon, so there was little light. It would be as black as death here soon, and Ivory wanted nothing more than be gone from this wretched place. She wiped her sweaty palms on the hips of her robes and rubbed her nose on the back of a finger.

"Atrocor, I know you've been thinking a long tie, but could you at least talk to me? You've been so quiet for so long. It's not like you." her little meek voice asked with genuine concern. "Please, tell me what's on your mind."

Red eyes flicked over to the corner of those blackened eyes, but he didn't turn her way. He couldn't bring himself to look at her as of now. He knew what was to happen was his fault, and he couldn't bear to do it. After all, this plan was not his, it was his sister's. She had the pluck for such a heartless thing. Atrocor just wished he had never agreed to it.

The plan was to keep Ivory for as long as was needed. When the sign was seen from the Kingdom of the Dead, then the attack would commence. Demons would be sent to the Kingdom of the Dead in an attempt to retrieve the Phoenix, or at least confirm their existence, and report their findings to their lord. At that time, an innocent angel was to be given to them, thus giving her to the Shadow Master. The Angel of Darkness will be born, and the Phoenix will use the SoulFire to kill her, thus mastering that ability.

In their future, the innocent died too soon. The Angel of Darkness was never formed, and the mastery of the SoulFire was a failure. Without the SoulFire, the war was lost, and the Shadows took over the whole of the universe. Trillions of lives were lost, worlds eaten to their cores, Creation itself was in ruins. Atrocor and what was left of his family were forced to become nomadic, fleeing the Shadows every chance they got. His mother and father were lost to the darkness, as well as Karma's family and his aunt and uncle. Many other accompanied them on their journey for an impossible freedom, and those few who were still alive were either infected with the Sickness, or mentally lost from the contact with the Shadows.

Atrocor thought it might be easy to discard an innocent angel to the forces of evil if it meant that his future would be saved, but he didn't know that innocent would be Ivory. How he loved her. As of now, he felt an eternity of misery would be worth it if he could spend just a little more time with her. He knew, though, that he could never place his selfish desires above the lives of trillions of people. Still, he did not want to just hand Ivory over to a horde of demons and never look back.

Sometimes, he wished he were as cold hearted as his sister. She was a stone; nothing ever touched her. It was only when their mother died that she showed any weakness. After that, she was always grim, angry, and full of grief. It seemed as though their father resented her sometimes, simply because she looked just like mother. When he gave himself to the Shadows out of desperation and misery, Zodiac seemed to become more pleasant. No less cruel and harsh, but pleasant.

His eyes softened. At last, Atrocor looked over to his angel, the young woman he loved. A smile eased its way onto his features, making him feel even more terrible about what was to come. "Don't worry, my love. You will be just fine. Everything will be fine, I promise."

That was a lie. He knew it wouldn't be okay. He had to do something. He had to save her. Somehow...

* * *

><p>Sabrina sat quietly in her seat, watching Phoenix enter the little study and shut the door behind her with her hip. She held a sleeping Frangipani in her arms, her head resting on one of Scout's strong shoulders.<p>

"You wanted to speak with me, love?" She asked, hooking a black curl behind her ear. She smiled that tight-lipped smile when Scout leaned over and kissed Sabrina's black brow.

"Yeah, I had an idea recently, and talked to Olivia about it, but she said it was stupid. I was gonna ask you if you thought maybe it was okay." She said, taking the small chair across from the other.

"What was your plan?" Sabrina leaned a bit to one side and placed her chin in her hand.

"I'm gonna take over Hell."

Sabrina blinked, pursing her lips shut. She gave Scout a screwed up look that said everything and nothing. She realized that she was holding her breath. "You plan on doing what now?" she muttered, weary of the sleeping child in Scout's arms. "That has to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. And I'm a Vangansa. My entire family is stupid."

The blonde child blinked, holding the straightest face she could have ever made. "Vangansa? What are you, Mexican?"

"No, no, no. Mexicans are from Mexico. I am Puerto Rican... I'm from Manhattan."

Scout blinked. Sabrina stared. Frangipani gave a tiny snore. Neither said a word for the longest time.

"...I said I was going to take over Hell. Hear me out, I promise this is serious. Give me a few minutes to explain, I think you might even agree with me."

It took some thought, but what harm could the presentation of a possible alliance possibly hurt? Sabrina folded her arms across her breasts and nodded her off to start speaking. Than again, what she was purposing was madness. An alliance between the forces of Heaven and Hell to stop Abrigor and the Shadows?Even is she could manage to gather up a few sensible demons to take up arms in a battle alongside her, it still wouldn't be enough. There would be millions.

"Okay. I know it's a long shot, but we gotta try, at least. This is the fate of the Multiverse we're talking about here! We have to do anything and everything possible to protect it. Balance, am I right?

"So, with what I'm thinking here, I might be able to convince a few members of the... Umm... Demonic Parliament, or whatever, to take sides with me on this thing. I mean, think about it: When Abrigor doesn't get what she wants, nobody is happy. I know, I used to date her..." At that right there, a shiver ran down Scout's spine. "But, in that lies all of the real reasoning. If Abrigor wants more demons fighting for her, but the big wig in charge says it's a no go, she'll throw a fit! So, the forces of Hell are either with me, or their against me!"

Well that made sense. No one knew the enemy better than Scout, as of now. Abrigor was truly a mystery. If what she says now is true, than an alliance with the remaining Forces of Heaven will be Hell's only chance of survival. Hell had a reputation to uphold, as it may be known. They would never hand their ranks and absolute power to a mere child, not without good reason, however. Abrigor may have the upper hand, having possession of the Shadow Matter, but who knows, maybe there are some smart demons out there who know better than to trust a Primordial champion of evil and eternal suffering. If those demons were stupid enough to hand their souls over o Fotis and her Shadows, they would realize that her magic would make the pains of the worst tortures of Hell seem like a lovers embrace.

Perhaps, this was a good idea.

* * *

><p>She could hear his voice. Inside of her mind. Once she made the connection, she and her brother spoke through the telepathic link in their minds. Their bond as siblings made the connection easy, and now, since he was doing nothing, Atrocor was just waiting. She could speak more clearly to him, since his mind was focused on nothing. Well, nothing that she knew of. When the two spoke to one another like this, it was habitual that they spoke in their mother tongue. Their Mother's tongue. She spoke a language hardly anybody understood, save their father, who only knew and understood a few words and phrases. This was a good thing, now. Atrocor had that damn angel with him, so this way, she wouldn't have a clue as to what they were saying.<p>

"¿Está usted en?" Atrocor's voice whispered in her mind. Where he was, he was literally speaking out loud. They were mile apart.

"Sí. Estoy sentado en el Trono Eterno mientras hablamos. El Señor de los Huesos no presentó a mi voluntad, pero ahora se ha ido, hermano."

She heard him laugh. "Parece como si estoy en lo cierto: estamos digno de la realeza ."

At that, Zodiac rolled her eyes. "Atrocor, por favor... Sé serio. Estoy nervioso..."

"Ah, ser todavía su corazón late despacio. Predije esta conversación tendría lugar. Sé que usted puede ser un poco poco miedo de lo que está por venir, pero escúchame , hermana dulce bebé: todo va a estar bien."

Just fine. Sure. Everything would be just fine. So long as he went with their plan. Better yet, her plan. As trying a plan as it was. even to her, it was devastatingly important. But she knew her brother would be too soft and foolish to carry out the actual plan. He wasn't as strong as she was. She was more tough, more cold. She was a Reaper. Reapers did not have the capability to love, her father always said, they had a duty. They had a task. And that was all.

"Atrocor," she said aloud, sitting in the Throne of the former Lord of Bones. "¿Sabes lo que pasa después, no?"

"Lo sé. Ivory irá con los demonios y voy a morir aquí."

"Bueno. Sólo estaba revisando."

There was a long silence between the two. A trying silence. Zodiac hated the silence. All that was there were his lingering thoughts on how he could have possibly saved Ivory. Poor fool. He would ruin everything. If only he were more like herself, instead of a romantic fool.

"¿Zodiac, estás seguro de que no hay otra manera de hacer esto? ¿Debe ella morir?" he asked in that defeated voice of his.

"Lo siento, pero es la única manera. Sin su muerte, la Phoenix nunca aprenderá cómo usar la magia más importante que posee. La muerte de Ivory es algo que no podemos tratar de weasle nuestra manera de salir de. Sé que la amas, pero si realmente la amas, puede amarla en otra vida."

Zodiac could practically hear him sigh, not in her mind, but with her own ears. It hurt her to do this to her brother, it truly did, but a few lives cannot be put before the lives of many. There was a bigger picture here. Reapers understood that certain action must be taken to preserve the peace and maintain balance. It was vital to the very fabric of the universe, and a big part of her life's work. It was her job.

"Atrocor, lo siento. Yo sé lo especial que es para ti. Sé lo mucho que la amaba de verdad." she said, trying to sound as reassuring as she could. It was no use, though.

He gave yet another defeated sigh. "Sí, yo kow que haces. Acepto lo que se convierte en mí... Pero ..."

"¿Qué?"

"Zodiac, te quiero. Tú eres mi hermana. Usted sabe que yo 'd hacer nada por ti . Cualquier cosa . Pero yo no puedo hacer esto . No sé lo que me hace pensar de esta manera , pero sé que si me entrego Marfil a esos demonios , yo nunca me perdonaré . Sé que usted es insensible a la emoción, así que esto iba a ser una brisa para usted , pero yo no soy como usted , hermana. Supongo que no soy tan fuerte . Sin embargo, yo no me atrevo a matar. Lo siento ... Sé lo que eres cruel . Esta es una tarea fácil para usted, pero no para mí. De hecho , tengo sentimientos, Zodiac, y sé cómo decirle cuando algo está bien y no debe ser manipulado. Esa parece ser algo que has olvidado . Madre estaría revolviéndose en su tumba si supiera lo que te has convertido ..."

She straightened in her seat. Did he really just say that to her? He might as well had told er to her face. Did he really think that of her? Really? He had the pluck to suggest that she was so heartless to do this to him? She could hear his mind clear as day, and all that he was thinking about her. He thought her cold-hearted. He thought her evil. He thought her as a villain.

When Zodiac was silent, Atrocor turned to his angel, waiting eagerly behind him. She stared up at the sky. Atrocor smiled, letting his head roll around to ease the stiffness. She looked to him when he stepped over and smiled when he put his strong arms around her petite frame. He leaned over, burying his face in the crease of her neck, taking her scent. He couldn't bear to lose her to the merciless plans of his conniving sister. He loved Zodiac, but now, she was in the wrong. So he thought.

"Ivory, this is where I was supposed to leave you, but I cannot do so. The struggle has only begun, and I fear I will not make it without you. We have come far, and the journey is only beginning. I wish I had the strength to let you go, but if I did, you would endure more pain than you ever thought possible. I'm sorry. I love you too much to let you go."

Slender hands rubbed his back in small circles. She held him like he was holding her. Like he was trying to squeeze all of his love an affections into her. Like he would never see her again.

"I know. I love you too. But you said so yourself: we have to do everything in our power to make things right. To make the future a future one worth living in. Your mother would want that of you." She looked up at him, moving him so that she could look into his chilling eyes again. "You have given me everything I could ever ask for, Atrocor. You have to let me go. If I can live my last few moments with the belief that I may see you in another life, than that will get me through any pain the Primordials can deliver unto me."

Atrocor shared her gaze, staring into those champagne pink eyes. He remembered her promise to do whatever was asked of her, even if she feared death. Every time he looked into her eyes, he saw that promise lingering there.

Tenderly, he leaned over and claimed her soft lips in a kiss. The last one he shall ever receive. A sweet one, but his final one. Through his eyes, it could all be seen. It enraged the Reaper. After what he thought about her, he deserved to be hurt now, and she didn't care what happened to Ivory anymore. She was supposed to die. She was supposed to suffer.

In a sudden slash which Ivory didn't see coming at all, she saw the spray of blood for only an instant before it completely clouded her vision. The sight sent her back in shock. All she saw then was Atrocor's head slowly roll off of his shoulders and onto the cold hard stone. Ivory shrieked at the sight, watching the body fall to a limp heap in front of her. She wiped blood from her race, a rich warm red, and crawled over to his corpse. She clawed at his torso and cried.

Blue lightening exploded from everywhere at once, crashing and splintering everything around her. Ivory covered her head from fear, trying to protect herself from any rubble that might crash into her, or worse, the lightening. With a loud crack, she was blown away by a close strike from above. She remembered hearing her back collide with what felt like the front of a stone column, but that was all she heard. She felt her head hit the hard stone and knock her unconscious. This was horrible. What had happened to her beloved Atrocor? Who could have done this?

Unbeknownst to her, it was in fact his beloved sister. He wanted heartless and cold, that's just what he got.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, i was thinking that I should probably translate all that spanish nonsense, but i don't know if I should be so nice... Oh well, ahev fun with google translate! :D<strong>

***Smaks slf* what are you thinking, bitch?! tranlate that noise!**

**...fine...**

_"Are you in?"_

_"Yes. I am sitting on the Eternal Throne as we speak. The Lord of Bones did not submit to my will. He is gone now, brother."_

_"It seems as though I was right: we are befitting royalty."_

_"Atrocor, please... Be serious. I'm... I'm nervous..."_

_"Ah, be still, your slowly beating heart. I predicted this conversation would take place. I know that you are afraid of what is to come, but listen to me: everything will be just fine."_

_"Atrocor, you know what happens net, don't you?"_

_"I know. Ivory will go with the demons and I will die here."_

_"Good. I was just checking."_

_"Zodiac, are you sure there's no other way to do this? Should she die?"_

_"Sorry , but it's the only way. Without his death, the Phoenix never learn how to use the most important magic that possesses. Ivory 's death is something we can not try to weasle our way out of . I know you love her, but if you really love her , you can love her in another life."_

_"Atrocor, sorry. I know how special she is to you. I know how much you truly loved her."_

_"Yes, I know you do. I accept what becomes of her... But..."_

_"What?"_

_"Zodiac, I love you. You are my sister. You know I'd do anything for you. Anything. But I can not do this. I don't know what is making me think this way, but I know if I just hand Ivory over to those demons , I will never forgive myself . I know you are numb to emotion , so this would be a breeze for you , but I 'm not like you , sister. I guess I'm not that strong. Still, I can not bring myself to kill her. Sorry ... I know what you're ruthless . This is an easy task for you but not for me. In fact, I have feelings , Zodiac , and know how to tell when something is right and should not be tampered with. That seems to be something you've forgotten. Mother would be turning in his grave if she knew what you've become..."_

** 8luh, have un reading, noobs! ::::D**


	22. Cancer

_You never know how strong you are until being strong is your only choice._

_-Bob Marley_

* * *

><p>"Now that I think about it, that does sound like a pretty good plan, Phoenix." Sabrina said as she tapped her fingernails against the top of the black marble desk. Her white fingers were such a contrast against all of the blackness surrounding them.<p>

"I know! I'm not as dumb as everyone makes me out to be!"

"Oh, Phoenix, you aren't dumb at all. You're too clever for your own good. But, that isn't such a bad thing. Especially now. We need all the cleverness we can find."

"But, you have Death! He's one smart dude, if you ask me."

Sabrina reclined back and folded her arms over her belly. "You've spoken to him?"

"Earlier today. We talked for a while. He's pretty funny. You should see the face he makes when his sarcasm is so perfect people think he's serious! It's really something!" She laughed quietly, smiling that huge smile of hers. Her fingers stroked Frangipani's hair as she spoke. "Yeah, I talked to him and the other Horsemen, too. Fury's really nice, ya know. She isn't as mean as I thought she might be. Real chill. Real quiet, too. Have you noticed something weird about her? She sometimes looks like she's a little... lost."

"Yes, I know." Sabrina stretched, arching her back into the cushioned seat.

That gave no absolution as to the condition of Fury's mind, but Scout guessed she might be crazy. She seemed crazy, a woman like Fur. It was good that Ergo was almost always with her. It seemed like Ergo was the big sister figure to Fury. Like Fury really enjoyed having her around. And why wouldn't she? She was convinced all of her beloved brethren were all dead, by her hand, no less. It must be a huge relief to have her there. Fury deserved that, Scout thought. She deserved to have the comfort of her sister there with her. After everything she and her brothers had been through, she deserved that pleasure.

"So anyway," Sabrina spoke up, snatching Phoenix from her brooding. "what do you think about announcing this plan to the rest of your kin?"

Oh fuck. She hadn't thought that far yet. God Damn it! What was she thinking? Of course she would have to tell everyone else! But how were all of the angels going to take it? What would they do? She brought a hand to her forehead, a small slap resounding. She then brought the other hand to her face. **Facepalm combo times two! **

"I did not think about that... How do you think everyone will take it?" she admitted.

"It doesn't really matter. You're above them all, dear. They have no choice but to follow in your decision. The choice you make is for the possible betterment of the universe around you. They have to understand that. They also have to understand that you possess the ability to weigh out options that help the most and hurt the least. Not just angels are great decision makers. You are too, I've seen it. You did take care of me after all..."

Phoenix threw her left arm into the air. "Then what was that whole mini-lecture about?!"

White shoulders shrugged nonchalantly and gave a tiny smile. "Just because."

* * *

><p>The Black Throne was a grand place, she supposed. Abrigor had seen demonic grandeur such as this before. She had also seen much greater majesty. She had lived among such grotesque splendor for nearly her whole life, among imposing stone columns, intimidating statues and arcs of immaculate chambers. Many demons roamed here. Some soldiers, some whores, mostly royalty.<p>

The splendor here meant nothing to her. It was no more than the rubble of the streets, the sinewy, cold corpses that laid themselves on the rough ground, the heaps of decay in the slime among the greasy runnel in the muck of the narrow alleys with nothing but the bitter sky overhead. Most demons were found here. In fact, almost all of them were. Demonkind was fated to spend their lives in either majesty or filth. She lived her twelve centuries in both. It mattered not to her.

Since the beginning, Abrigor had acquired a certain status and freedom in the eyes of the Dark One. She hadn't specifically sought it, it just happened. At a young age, she would wander off to the caves in the Bafament Woods and pray to her Primordial Goddess, Fotis, beseeching her for guidance on getting revenge for the murder of her beloved brother, Pan, whom had been killed meaninglessly by a garrison of angels. She wanted so badly to simply give those angels what they deserved. She believed it was Fotis who came to her in her dreams and gave her instructions on locating her Shadow Matter, telling her what she would have to do with it. Fotis promised great rewards should she succeed.

It was Fotis that gave her the strength she needed to rise out of the obscurity she hid herself in. She gave Abrigor the confidence to float like a fiery water lilly through the swamp of dregs she found herself living with. Now, she simply didn't care. She once did, and tried to hide herself among the dull and drab animals she lived with, so not to be noticed and slaughtered like her brother was. Now, of course, she didn't care at all. She wore her fine black leather and dresses. She let her flames scream to life atop her head for all the world to see.

For the most part, she did whatever she wanted. She didn't care what anyone did to her, and everyone knew it. In much a way that Phoenix was an enigma to the universe, she was an enigma to the universe as well.

That was why Lucifer was so fascinated by her. Despite his cruelty towards her, there was caution there. Reverence. When she disobeyed him, which she did many many times, simply because she enjoyed being defiant, he hurt her, she welcomed it; she merited the brutality. Pain could sometimes reach down into her deep emptiness. He could them recoil from hurting her. When he threatened to kill her, she waited patiently for it to be done; she knew she deserved not to live. He would then withdraw the opportunity of death. He knew of the power she tapped into. She had threatened him many times with that power, but both parties seemed to know that they needed one another if their plan was to be a success.

* * *

><p>"NO!" Azreal spat. "No, no no no no!"<p>

"But, Azreal-"

"No butts! I said no!" Azreal shouted again in a fit of rage. Or, that's what he sounded like. "I forbid you to go anywhere near the gates of Hell. From going anywhere that even resembles the Second Kingdom! Do I make myself clear?"

Scout's face reddened considerably. "You can't do that! It's a step I feel must be made!"

"I don't give a damn. Phoenix, you're grounded."

What the fuck. No, he did not just do that. He did _not_ just fucking ground her... No, no no no nononononononono~

"...What?! I'm grounded?!"

"Did I stutter?" the Angel of Death hissed, planting his fists on his hips. "I meant what I said. As your Guardian, and as your bloody Godfather, I forbid you from going through with this. Understand? This is a complete outrage! Do you know how dangerous this idea was? I have half a mind to blah this entire blah blah for your well-being, so help me blah. Blah blah blah blah blah,blah blah blah blah! Blah,blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!?"

Scout's mind was a brilliant thing. The instant someone started to lecture her, the brain shut itself down. It was her defense mechanism against sheer boredom and just the fact that she was in trouble for something yet again. Still, Scout fumed. She had never seen Azreal so mad. He looked like he wanted to chew steel and spit nails. How was she supposed to make her army stronger is this mutton-head wouldn't let her go out and try to make new alliances? Was he stupid or something? No, of course not. He was just stressing her safety, as he always did. God, she knew he only did this because he loved her... But could he love her a little less?

_PLEASE?! Just a little less? Enough to un-ground me?!_

* * *

><p>Bastions and black columns towered outside of the entrance to the Black Throne. Ranks of Legion Soldiers to each side funneled everything through black carved doors spread wide, and into a grand hall lit with windows of pale amber glass set between polished black and grey marble columns topped with gold capitals. As she moved on even further, Phoenix could feel herself being sucked into the belly of evil. The demons, had any of them known better, would be shuddering at the living monument to profanity that surrounded them. Instead, they shuddered at the presence of the Horsemen, and the Ebon Sai.<p>

After a journey through commodious halls and chambers with enough granite and stone to build a mountain or two, Scout, Sabrina, Lucky, and the Horsemen at last passed through tall, stone double doors to enter a huge anteroom capped with an enormous dome. Ornate frescoes of bloody battles swept across the ceiling overlooking the assembly. Round windows around the lower edge of the dome let in waning light, revealed clouds gathering in a darkening sky, and made as a perching spot for small bat-like demons to come and speculate. They hissed and bit at one another, screeching down at the gathering demons in the room. Across the room, at a semi-circle dais, the thrones behind the resplendent, carved desk seated Samael, the Blood Prince himself.

Arched openings around the room covered stairways up to colonnaded balconies edged with cryptically carved stone railings. The balconies were filled with demons of just about every sort; demoniod, humanoid, monstrous, and fantastical. Scout noticed some soldiers, finely dressed women, as well as many other... beasts. The numerous creatures noticed her too, and cast disapproving glances down at the child and her posse in the light of the courtroom's center. Some of the demons there at the balconies stood back from the railings, as if seeking obscurity in the darkness, lest any of them should be recognized and called on an account for daring to be so important at a function. It was customary for the important demons to be introduced to the people of authority first, before letting himself be known to ordinary creatures.

Ignoring the audience up in the balcony, the small posse spread out across the patterned marble and granite floor, keeping distance between themselves as well as from the women in the center of the room. Surrounding demons kept their distance from all of them, trying to make it seem accidental, rather than by obvious intention. They looked about expectantly for Samael to begin his interrogation while bending over to whisper among themselves. None, though, betrayed being awed by the fabled Ebon Sai, as well as the delicious-looking blonde thing wit her all dressed in red and brown leather and light armor. Cute little thing. She even came with a little sword! How adorable! The demons did not know, though, that the sword was not worn out of decoration.

It was a weapon to be feared. Just as the wielder was to be.

Despite the revulsion, Scout couldn't help but marvel at the place where she stood. This was the possible place where good ol' Luci once pulled the strings of Hell. This was where he and his counsel had, for countless millenia, preserved and expanded their demonic empire. This is the spot where the tendrils of darkness spread forth.

She was going to shatter this counsel. The Kingdom of Hell had lost its grip on the universe, and were slowly plunging into darkness unimaginable. The age of demonkind was drawing near its untimely demise. Soon, this Red Court would be filled to the brim with Shadow Matter and their nasty little Shadow Wielders, and only they would be seated at the dais. Scout frowned; events were moving inexorably toward a horrendous end.

Her big red eyes searched the dais where multiple demons sat. Some were horrid to look at, even frightening, but others weren't so much. Like the demoness with the emerald eyes and violet skin Phoenix was now sharing a glance with. She was a beautiful one. It didn't make her feel any better, though. Death had said something about watching her, Lilith, for she was a tricky bitch. She leaned over a whispered something to Samael, who just shook his head and grunted. Another exchange of words, and he looked to have laughed.

Lilith stood, and there was silence. Her dark lips puckered into a simper. "Imagine, after everything we have heard about the fabled Phoenix Sai, and it comes to pass that she is a little girl..." She smoothed the fabric at her hips, a seemingly polite smile coming to her flawless features as she waited for Scout to speak. When she didn't, she went on. "Seems very impolite to get all of our hopes up like that, eh? The prophecies said that the Phoenix Sai would be a prince. Now, you're far too cute for a title such as that."

Scout clasped her hands behind her back. She wore that face War had worn all of the time: a stoic frown-raptor stare combo. She wore it rather well, she thought. Her eyes betrayed her, though. SHe was beyond terrified. Getting in through Hell was already a trying experience. She remembered clutching herself to War's back the entire time. He didn't seem to care, only when she whined too much, then he would shove her off and she would walk a few more feet before clinging to his back again. _Find a fucking happy place... A Nephilim's back._

"Do you know Fotis?"

Lilith's pretty features faltered for a moment. "I know of her, if that's what you mean. Than again, claims of such a creature meeting her personally and surviving is a Sprite's Tale." she laughed.

Scout looked past the demoness's shoulders to see demons closing the doors. No escape now. She had to make this work, somehow. She crinkled her nose and started wandering toward the dais.

"Well, if none of you know about her, then why is there Shadow Matter all over the place in Heaven? I'm not one to point fingers, but I mean, come on! The evidence is very substantial, and it points right at you guys." She paused and hooked a blonde curl behind her ear. "Not that I wanna be a dick, but, you're kinda screwed here.

Samael, who had been silent this whole time, gripped the arm rests of his stone built throne. His grotesque features looked perplexed. "And you are bringing this news to me because? I believe the Dark One rules this realm, infant. Take it up with him."

"I would, but I'm scared enough of this place to go anywhere remotely near the big-wig demon in charge. I mean, come on! That's Lucifer we're talking about here! The very Idea of talking to him terrifies me!" she said as she scratched her freckled nose. "But I am sure you are aware that Heaven is gone?"

"I know this."

"Well, so is the Charred Counsel. But, I bet you already knew that, Sammy. Anywho, I'm sure since you already know so much about everything going on, you might just know what is coming next. Hell maybe? That's my hypothesis."

"And a cute one." Samael said, indifferent by her remarks. He did falter at the 'Sammy' part, though. That sly smile of hers was no treat either. He fell silent, considering her words. He knew the Counsel was destroyed, and her knew of the fall of Heaven, but even he was ignorant to the fact that it was fabled Shadow Matter that was to blame. And after all of that, this child, this angelic freak, came to him and started going on about what he already knew. He observed her while he thought. Aside from her angelic armor, she looked like a plain, little girl.

It was her eyes that interested him the most. Eyes were mostly the mark one's nature, and the one thing that rarely deceived him. When this young woman's gaze settled on people, some stepped back without realizing it, some froze, others fidgeted. When those cinnamon eyes settled on Samael, when their their gaze caught him for the first time, the Blood Prince was able to measure the child's heart and soul.

That brief look was all he needed. Phoenix was a very dangerous woman. He saw things in her soul not even she was aware of. That raw power; that anger buried beneath a densely packed layer of compassion.

Though she was young and ill at ease at being the center of attention, she was a girl who would fight with every fiber she had, with a vengeance. Samael had seen those eyes before. This was a young warrior who would jump headlong off of a cliff after you.

"You know something, Sammy?" Scout said to him. "Of all the demons I ever met, you're the prettiest."

Lilith grinned and sucked her lower lip through her teeth. War felt his cheeks tightening in a smile. Fury fought a snicker. A few demons in the crowd burst into laughter. Everyone buzzed in amusement at the witty remark. Samael only grinned.

"I am not the one for diplomacy, young Firebird."

Scout raised an armor backed glove. "Here here. Blood leaves a longer lasting imprint, if you ask me. I get the impression that you understand this, too, as well as the sea of obsequious faces crowding this damn place." she said nonchalantly.

Suddenly, Samael was beginning to enjoy himself. He leaned over, placing his elbows as he raised his knee, and leaned his head on the knuckle of his fist, casually nodding.

"What have you come here for, Phoenix Sai, other than to earn my favor?" he asked at last.

"Only that you, as well as your Court, save good ol' Luci, come with us. We have something we we should really talk about."

"And that would be?"

"I'm asking you to join me and my... army or whatever..."

* * *

><p>"The universe," Scout began. "is sick, ladies and gentlemen... And Strife."<p>

Some in the enormous counsel room murmured in acknowledgement. Others laughed. She already knew Strife was fuming, she could tell by the way he was staring at her. She could feel the fury of his hot glare.

"I've seen it, and God only knows how many others have seen it, too. Well, tragic, there's something worse than anything you've ever conceived of comin' after us. And it's comin' fast."

Scout rubbed her sweaty palms on her hips and took a quick glance around the huge room again. She wasn't very good at public speaking, if it weren't a class room filled with about twenty other teenage kids, and even still, that was a trying effort. A room filled with hundreds of demons, four nephilim, and Sabrina was downright torturous. She had to get the thesis out before she felt sicker than what she already was.

"I have an idea. An idea that is so damn stupid, it might as well work. I know it's a long shot, and I know y'all might not like it, but it's the best thing I can come up with..." She paused and took a shaky breath. Jesus, her confidence was already flying out the window. She suddenly felt her courage reserves sell out on her. That fast. It was almost like she was running out of courage with every word she uttered.

"I believe Hell and what remains of Heaven's forces should join up to try and defeat the Shadow Master."

When all eyes were on her again, she wanted nothing more than to turn and run. perhaps behind War, he was big she make her legs do so, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. It was Sabrina. Those eyes said that she would speak on her behalf, a relief if Scout had ever felt one. Sabrina was understanding, and knew that with her honeyed tongue, she could get the point across.

Scout slowly sunk back in toward the crowd, to where Lucky was, and stood quietly. She could still feel their eyes, much less hear their laughter or blatant and hateful comments towards her. Samael just looked to have been deep in thought. That was good. At least he wasn't laughing at her, too. Lilith looked to be having the time f her life. At least the face she made while she laughed was pretty.

Sabrina took the dead center of the floor, which was a mistake, considering all of the cat-calls she was suddenly receiving. She watched everyone with those cold blue eyes. She stared down her nose at Samael, at Lilith, at the others round him. When she at last spoke, all the voices were silenced.

"Shadow Matter; sentient matters forged from the rage and hatred of the Primordial lord, the Champion of Darkness herself: Fotis. I dread being the bringer of such awful tidings, but some demon, known to the kingdom of Hell as Abrigor,has awakened the Shadows and is training other young demons to use it as well." she paused and drew a breath, regarding everyone coolly. "With Fotis' permission."

There were a few startled gasps among those who didn't already know what was going on. Others didn't believe her, some sounded frightened, to say the least. Even Samael seemed phased.

A creature sitting a few seats away from Samael stood. She was an elegant looking woman, with impossibly red skin, long, red horns that reached up from her skull, voluminous, orange curls, big black eyes, and the most colorful dress Scout had ever thought she'd seen on a demon. On her back were huge, black and red and violet butterfly wings. They accented her ostentatious appearance even more. So, Hell had fairies? What the hell was that all about?

"How is this possible? The Primordials were denounced as a myth long ago. Why are these claims being made now?" she asked in a stern, yet musical voice.

"The Charred Counsel denounced these figures as a myth because they were a threat. The Counsel wanted to be the only figures revered and feared. They were left in the wake of your Creator, but He is not the most powerful thing this universe knows of. The Counsel wanted to stay in charge, but faith in an even higher power would make them look undermined. That was something they wanted to avoid. Going as far as to allow Aboddon to incite war, destroying the world where the weakened Terrestrial Phoenix resided."

Samael huffed a laugh. "And what became of this Terrestrial?"

"Why, Samael, she stands before you as of now. She is among you all. She is no Phoenix Sai, but she is far more powerful that even you realize."

Lilith spoke out. "If the Counsel knew of this, why did they send in my son to seek an end to the End War?"

Scout blinked and ran over quickly, tugging at War's left arm. _"She's your mom?!"_

"Shut your mouth."

"Because they didn't want to raise suspicion, of course. You see, they knew that she was alive and residing on Earth, they monitor these Exaltion happenings closely. That is also why the Counsel ordered the slaughter of the nephilim. Not simply because of their disruption to the Balance but because the Primordials found great favor in them. There were beginning to be too many Exalted nephilim, and their existence was a sign. A sign that the Counsel was no "higher power" as they wanted to lead all of Creation to believe. The Exalted ones could easily challenge their power, so they had the entire race eliminated. All but the choice few that would never receive Exaltion. The four were randomly chosen, and just so happened to be the Four Horsemen you all know as of now."

She could tell by the hums of the minds around her that all were contemplating her words. Including the Horsemen. That was not an easy thing to hear, that they slaughtered their kin for nothing. It was sad that those four poor souls were forced to do such a thing, but they only did it out of terror for what might have happened had they disobeyed. Even back in those ancient days, Exaltion was thought of as a mistake of the magics. It was looked upon as a defect. Those who had the Exaltion were often outcasted or feared. Now, they were making a comeback, and people knew a little better.

"Now is the age of the Exalted Ones. Now is the time to make a choice. Either you join us, or your legions will be shattered against the will of the Shadow Master. You all will perish. If that woman doesn't get what she wants, she throws a fit. And in doing so, she make you all experience the true power of the Shadows. It will make the tortures of Hell seem like a lovers embrace. Believe me. I have not experienced it myself, but I have interviewed the souls who have.

"Hell is doomed, Samael. Now, are you with us, or are you against us? The choice is yours, but choose wisely."

* * *

><p>As Phoenix left the Black throne with her "petition," Lilith fell in with Samael. How she laughed. A mere child, barging into her domain and claiming to be a Firebird, now that was too funny. She only let her leave alive because she amused her so much. It was so hilarious for the Horsemen to also fall for that ploy. She thought her children much smarter than that. She honestly expected much more.<p>

Walking through the long, stone corridor,, silence hung in the air. Nothing but the lonely sounds of Samael's footsteps and the "tup, tup" of Lilith's heeled boots echoed throughout the halls. The demons were in thought, Samael deeper than his other.

"The Petitioner's Hall must be filled with fools mulling this whole Primordial War thing over." Lilith said, trying to break the uneasy silence. "Can you believe that those fools actually believed that infant to be an all-powerful Primordial heir?" Lilith laughed exultantly.

"Tellifatuis and her nation have surrendered. Something must have made her anxious enough to make such a bold move. As a Sprite Queen, she is stubborn. She was afraid." The Blood Prince stared down the empty corridor as he walked. Although if one were to look, really look, they would know that he did not see the far wall. He was looking deeper. Further.

He frowned as he thought. "For once, an event has occurred that I cannot foresee. I see her now, speaking among her posse of nephilim and angels, yet I cannot decipher what is to become of this one. It troubles me greatly..."

"She certainly has the Sprites aquiver."

Samael jerked to a halt and seized Lilith's arm. "The Sprites are the least of our problems! What she said was true. She is of Primordial blood. She is among Exalted nephilim as well, not to mention two Ebon Sais, and the raging Queen of Chaos is at her back! That and the Counsel's attack dogs, backed by the power of the Seven Seals, are at her back and call. She is a terrible threat, and because I cannot foresee her actions, she is a danger to my power."

Lilith's delicate brows drew down. "Are you telling me that you are planning to surrender the major nations of Hell- your entire domain- to a mere child?! An angelic hybrid freak for that matter?" she squawked.

"I plan on gaining a useful ally. You seem to be blind to that concept, however."

Lilith planted her fists firmly on her hips. "I understand completely, I'm just not excited to hear that I may have to take orders from some idiotic child." She paused and searched for the right words. "It's very... unbecoming."

Samael shook his head and waved the woman off. "I do not care if it seems foolish to you. I would rather have this child as my ally than as a potential threat, and be under the whip of Shadow Wielder. Besides, I can see that child is already a struggle to control. I do not need that kind of stress..."

* * *

><p>It was late, and very dark, so demons on the street didn't notice her. They had no reason to give Pius a second thought, no reason to suspect that a sprite was among them. Just as well, there was plenty of demons who wished Sprites harm. Mostly, however, they didn't bother to notice her. since there were more important things going on around her.<p>

As her mother had said, there were merchants everywhere, hawking potions to ward off the Shadows, or to cure those struck by the Merihim, the demonic disease to which there was no known cure. Others strolled around with amulets and charms possessing magic to protect against it all. Poor, stupid people, Pius thought. Those silly little trinkets wouldn't do them any good at all. But they were very pretty. Shiny even. Still, the Primordial force they were dealing with would not yield in the midst of a simple little amulet.

Pius tried to imagine what would happen if the Phoenix Sai had contracted the Merihim. Would her guardians be despairing enough to put their faith in such foolishness? She hoped not. The Phoenix Sai is a very important part of the initial plan to survive, but if she was to die, at least let her die with dignity.

Tellifatius, The Sprite Queen from Sophia, waited for Pius at the Black Throne. When Pius approached, she noticed that, as was her habit, the Queen's golden cloak was drawn back and her arms were folded over her jewel embellished corset. That action displayed her wickedly colored gown and belt of shiny knives at her hip. Pius couldn't help but be hexed at the amount of shiny things her mother wore all of the times. Pius personally preferred purple and black, amethyst and onyx, but all of the color... It was very distracting.

Cunning black eyes watched Pius as she appeared and pulled the hood off of her head. Her curls sprung as she nodded her little one over.

"My Queen, I have come as quickly as I possibly could. What is it you will of me?" Pius asked, eager to have received a task from her mother.

"I haven't much time to explain, I must leave this place, but listen: I want you to go to the Phoenix. She is no Sai, my love, she is a Firebird." Tellifatius paused long enough to hear her child gasp. "I have just surrendered our nation to her, but this is the Phoenix I'm talking about. That won't be enough. I am sending you to serve her. No longer will the spoils of my nation go to you. This is a much greater task for you, and you deserve this."

Pius beamed. "Oh, yes! I would be more than happy to go with her! This is most exciting news! But-" A grey hand reached out from the blackness of her cloak and grasped a bright red wrist. "-I cannot expect to see you again anytime soon, will I?"

Black eyes locked on to one another. They both shared a sad gaze for a while. "No, my love." Her mother said reluctantly as she took her child's arm and whipped out her golden knife. "I am sorry. But That doesn't mean I will not be seeing you, soon. Now, I have no time. Go now. I love you so."

* * *

><p>Fury sighed and rubbed her temples as she thought. She was glad to be out of the Black Throne; that literal Hell Hole. It wasn't the demons she was upset about. It was all of the Sprites.<p>

No one really knew a lot about Sprites, other than they were residents of the Kingdom of Hell. The Horsemen normally left them alone. Most people in the Second Kingdom had a great dislike for them. Sprites steal things. Not for the wealth of the object, but simply because they were fascinated by shiny things. A chip of glass, a gold piece, a button, or a buckle; it mattered not to them.

Another thing was that Sprites never told the truth. They were notorious liars. And on the rare occasion that they did decide to tell you the truth, they told you in a riddle. Even then, you wouldn't know what to believe! They lied too damn much! Fury despised those little gnats! Words could not begin to describe her hatred for them. She hated Sprites almost as much as she hated Sirens.

This little thing was annoying.

Her big, round black eyes watched Phoenix as she fluttered in place. The silence of her big, black butterfly wings was a relief, since they were so quiet. Thank goodness for that. However, the high-pitched and cheery tone of her voice compensated for the missing hum of her wingbeats. Her long, knee length black and violet streaked hair was woven into hundreds or small braids, making her look like she was wearing a wig of black and purple yarn. woven in her yarn-like hair were small, shiny things- pieces of gold, metal bits, shiny beads, shards of glass, chips of obsidian- scraps of things she had found lying around that were shiny enough to fit her taste.

Her skin was a somber grey, clung to a short, pear-shaped physique. A lustrous, satiny material lay draped over her in a swaddling fashion, almost, to wrap around her hips. On her torso was a simple leather brazier. Her arms were covered in dark grey spots, like one would see on a dog. Each dainty finger had a ring. Her wrists tinkled with the sounds of her thin gold and silver bracelets.

Her face had many piercings- in her lips, nose, eyebrows, and multiple rings in her ears. There were also more dark spots on the sides of her forehead and cheeks, dotting their way down her face and onto her neck and shoulders. They followed that pattern all the way down, it looked like. The sides of her waist were covered in them, but her belly was left bare. She even had a ring in her naval, too.

She was a dainty little thing. But what did she want?

She perched herself up on a thick branch up above the horsemen and Phoenix. Her black eyes blinked excitedly down at them. Black lips curve into a toothy smile and she regarded all of them with kind eyes.

"Salutations, dearest enforcers, and Phoenix. It is a pleasure seeing you all here. Especially you nephilim! I know I was sent here for the Phoenix, but I have never seen a nephilim at such a close proximity before!" the young sprite said, as if it were a fascinating bit of news. "My mother tells me you all are very troublesome." her expression turned perplexed. "You know, you all small very different than what I anticipated. You smell more... Floral than enforcers of the charred Counsel should smell. I met a demon once, Vulgrim, who once achieved an audience with the Charred Counsel. he never smelt the same after that. He always smelled like obsidian and magma, very pungent... very unpleasant..."

She paused long enough to itch her ear and pull another breath. "My Lord Phoenix, you smell very nice! Your lovely golden curls is of the sweetest milk and honey to my nose! And the rest of you just smells like Dragon's smoke!"

Fury closed her eyes and nodded. Scout had no clue what the grey thing was talking about. She was pleased to hear that she smelled nice. She wondered why she smelled so good to... whoever this lady was. She sure did talk a lot. She could see everyone was already getting annoyed by her. Scout thought she was cute. All tiny and talkative and squeaky.

"Thank you, sprite, for sharing that with us. Strife said, not even trying to conceal his annoyance. "What is your purpose here?"

"I carry a message."

War shouldered past Phoenix, staring up at the sprite with that frown of his. "What message do you carry, sprite?"

Black eyes blinked down at him. "My mother sends me to server the Phoenix. The Sprites are at your call now. Whenever you need one of us who possesses a trade, we will gladly come and serve you. As a final act of her surrender, she also has another gift for you..."

"And what would that be?" Death muttered. "I'm sure everyone here loves a good gift."

"It is me! My mother called me Kiwa- which means the youngest of my litter, or baby- but my name is Pius, and I have been sent to serve the Phoenix!" the little thing said with a giggle.

Fury's eyes popped open. Death's head spun around to face her and Strife straightened considerably. "**WHAT?!**" all three nephilim hissed at once. War was just silent.

"I take back what I said, I hate gifts." death grumbled as he brought a bony hand to his forehead.

"She sent me to serve the Phoenix! As a gift of her thanks for the opportunity for us to become allies with you! Our nation is grateful for your kindness, and it shall be remembered!"

"Wait, wait, wait..." Scout said as she waved her hands around. "Why would she send you? Why?"

Pius frowned, as if confused by her question. "Because I am the youngest of Tellifatius's litter. I am special to our Queen. She gave me over to you. She gave me to serve."

Phoenix stared. She knew nothing about Sprites and their customs.

For a sprite to offer the youngest of her litter was a gift. But when the Queen herself offered up her youngest, it was looked upon as a blessing. A Queen, or any mother sprite was always most attached to her youngest child. The older siblings of that young child would wait on them hand-and-foot, or be severely punished. Most of the youngest sprites in a litter were spoiled brats, but there were a few good ones. Pius was a prime example.

"Wait one moment, Tellifatius was your mother?" Fury asked crossly. "How can we believe that?"

Pius dug into her brazier and pulled out a small silver rod wrapped from halfway down the length of it in green leather. A Lightening Rod, but not the one Scout would be familiar with. It was used to summon lightening. Only members of the royal family in Sophia were able to use them. If one was caught with a lightening rod without written consent from a lord or Queen, the penalty was death by hanging. This little one would not be so bold as to steal a lightening rod from a royal. She had no written consent, though. Until Pius displayed her arm. A few scratches here and there, and some dried up blood.

"Mother had no time to write things out officially, but she did manage to do this. It is her signature. She marked me herself, with her knife." she said, like it was a privilege to be cut up by her Queen and mother figure.

"So, you're like a princess?" Scout asked as she shoved War out of her way.

The sprite shook her head. "Not anymore. Tellifatius gave me away. Now, the second youngest of my litter is heir to her power. My brother, Millanor. I am simply a servant now, and promise to do everything you say!" Pius chippered with a grand bow.

This was gonna be a long trip back, Fury could already tell. Scout asked too many questions and Pius talked too much. Grand. Just grand...

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: Alright, let me just clear some things up here: I know these chapters are being labeled by Zodiac signs all of the sudden, but there is a reason! The characters that take up a major part of these chapters fall under the signs here! like Frangipani was an Aries, Strife is a Taurus, Atrocor and Zodiac are Gemini, and Scout, Samael, and Pius are all Cancer! the same follows for the rest of these chapters up until the end of the Zodiac Trials.<strong>

**I hope you all can understand this, and if there are any questions about this whole "Zodiac" thing, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be happy to answer!**

**Love you all! See ya next chapter! *hugs and kisses all around***


	23. Leo

_I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched._

_-Edgar Allan Poe_

* * *

><p>It was late in the night by the time when the portal had opened up to her. Kijara was already on high alert. She walked with claws sharpened, vision focused, and power leveled. She had taken more of the Shadows into herself than she normally did. A lot more. Not even a cricket would have escaped her scrutiny. If someone born into the Kingdom of Man could see her right now, they would say she was <em>high as fuck. <em>

Arriving at the temple, she noticed many celestial guards standing at the entrances. Smart. To guard the entrances posed little difficulty, but things were too simple, which was no fun. Kijara loved challenges. the angels stood there, weapons at the ready, as she would have expected them to be. She drifted to a halt and stood there in the shadows. The Darkness whispered to her. Told her what to do. Where to go. They spoke to her now more than ever before. It was a deadly voice, Kijara knew, but it was laced with the promisingly sweet tone of a stricken mother. It was a comforting voice. A Siren Song that she knew all too well was full of manipulation and forbidden promise. But the call was too great.

She could smell them. The Exalted ones. They all smelled so... delicious. All of their power, all of their souls... They smelt wonderful. The most overpowering of them all was the smell of the Phoenix. Like sweet ozone, it filled Kijara's lungs with a hypnotizing, silken essence. How Kijara wished she could find the source of that smell, now. It was a challenge to see. She would find the Phoenix soon, and when she did, things would get fun. Things would get _very_ fun.

* * *

><p>Azreal's scowl looked like it would kill about a dozen men. War was surprised to see that man look so cross. Never had he seen him so infuriated. He knew, though, that it was Scout that was responsible for the outrage. He could almost feel himself slipping into a smile just thinking about how the Angel of Death sought to punish her. Well, he might be able to punish her... If he could catch her. War knew that Phoenix was a slippery little thing. She just loved to pester him, and often tackled him from above. Even in the most impossible places, he never saw her coming! He only heard her screaming at the last few fleeting moments, but have no real time to ready himself. Strangely, it only ever happened when he lowered his guard.<p>

She would never lose, but War would never win. He would throw her off, proceed to wrestle with her until Azreal intervened and sent her away. Now that War thought more of it, he thought it was kind of fun. He often times encouraged it, but told her that she would have more fun should she not be so sneaky about it. It was then she started attacking him head on. Careful what you wish for...

Scout stood rigid when she saw his face, saw the whole of him. She knew she was in huge trouble. After he had said not to go to Hell, she deliberately disobeyed him and went anyway. She never listened. She was going to say she was sorry, that her plan worked, that Hell was going to surrender, but when she made to speak, the words wouldn't come. She only stuttered.

The Angel of Death wasted no time in grabbing her by her arm and dragging her up the stairs into her room. She knew he was mad, but she never expected him to be so forceful about it. The way he was holding her by her arm hurt. When they arrived at her bedroom door, he nearly flung her inside and slammed the door behind him. Phoenix feared the wort, in all actuality. She had never made Azreal that mad before. Not even when she drop-kicked him in the middle of one of his lectures. Even then he would have forgiven her. Children will b children, as he said. Now, he looked like he wanted to kill her.

"Phoenix Anne Michelle," he started, calling her by her full name. You know you're in trouble when a parent addressed you by your full name. "I told you specifically to stay away from Hell. You disobeyed me. I have been patient with you for the longest time, but this, _this_ crosses the line. I know you know you're in serious trouble with me, am I right?"

Phoenix only nodded.

"I don't see what's so interesting abut the floor, there." He growled, mentioning for the child to face him.

He stared intently int those big red eyes. "You have no idea how angry I am. I'm not upset. Upset doesn't begin to _touch_ it. I am tired of telling you to do something and you go and do the exact opposite! Do you know how stressful that is? I was worried sick when Luke told me you left to Hell with Sabrina and the Horsemen! I was prepared to leave after you and drag you back here myself!"

"Well why didn't you?" Scout asked, She winced at her foolish action. That was a smartass comment.

He opened his mouth to retort, but the words never found their way past his lips. He stood there for a moment, processing what she had said. Then, Azreal's arms enclosed her in a comforting shelter. She listened to the sounds of a light rain and the sound of his heart beneath her ear. For a moment, in the safety of his arms, in the protection of his loving embrace, she felt like everything was fine. He squeezed her a little tighter and kissed the top of her head. She felt so happy in his embrace, she felt that she could die. She knew he was upset, thought he yelled at her, scolded her. Now, he just collapsed against her and stood there.

"I was afraid. I hate Hell; hate it. I was help prisoner in the Black Throne for a long time, and didn't intend on going back. But I didn't want you to experience that terror. Ergo spoke to me when I attempted to make my out. She said it would be unwise of me. She said it would be nothing compared to the horrors you will see in the future. I... I just wanted to protect you..."

Phoenix smiled and wrapped her arms around his slender body. He was much easier to hug when he wasn't adorned in his... dress. She knew he was scared. He didn't have to explain himself to her. "I know, Azreal. You're a good dad, And I know you were only trying to what you thought was best. I know what I did was dumb, but I was only trying to fix things. I'm trying to win this thing against Abrigor. I'm sorry I didn't listen, and I'm sorry I scared you so bad. I only want to take her out. This threat is bigger than we think. I can feel it. And if I didn't ask for an alliance, i think things would have gotten much more worse than what they could have been." she took one arm and brought it to the Angel's handsome face. She lightly stroked his cheek and tapped at his face with the palm of her hand. "I promise I'll make up fr this, Azreal. I love you, and I don't wanna make you so upset again."

**Pap. **

**Pap. **

**Shooooosh~**

Azreal just stood there. She had ruined the moment. With her papping and shooshing, the tender moment was gone. He shoved her away and waved her off. "Well, I hope you hold your end, here. Now, please, take a bath. You smell like demon." he grumbled.

"That is so racist." Scout huffed as she folded her arms over her chest. "Oh! I forgot, since you're not mad at me anymore, can I ask for something?"

She couldn't really se it, but she knew Azreal was rolling his eyes. "What is it?"

"That Lucien fool's journal. Can I see it?"

Azreal squinted. " don't see why not. Why ever would you need his journal? It's quite personal..."

"I know. But he's family, right? I do't think he'll mind if I just skim through it." she pried. "Please?"

Azreal was quiet for a moment, thinking on her words. "Fine. Clean yourself and I'll bring it up here."

* * *

><p>It was very late when Fury decided to turn in for the night, and she decided she wanted to take a nap. After all of that sprite's constant chattering, she felt like she had a headache. She talked way too much. Upon entering her room, however, she thought she saw something in the corner of her room.<p>

The oil lamp on the far side of the wall was turned down low. The only light coming from the glassed doors was from that lamp, and the quick appearances of the huge, blue moon. The thick carpets silenced the sounds of footsteps, had their been any. The weak flame from the lamp was all they betrayed the shape of what she saw.

Another motion came from across the room- a tiny bit of movement. She hadn't seen anyone enter her room, so she thought it was nothing. No one would dare invade the privacy of one of the Four. She debunked this as another trick of her own imagination. With the next silent step, though, there was no doubt: there was someone in her room. Someone slipped even closer to the bed. It rose up, and Fury saw a small hint of her face. Her horribly painted face. The very look of it gave her pause.

Fury didn't move a muscle as she saw the glint of red, like a small knife in the dark, in the dim lamplight. Her brows knitted together. For a moment, she wasn't sure what was happening until a powerful blast stabbed hatefully into her face. Her vision suddenly blackened. The cold feeling to the back of her neck sent her to her knees, and she brought her arms up to her head in an attempt to pry herself free from the sudden darkness.

She inhaled a breath, a small one. She gasped it in.

Suddenly, there was no sound. Just her heart hammering in her ears. Everything around her was black, accept for the shapes of the living things around her. They were all a crisp red in color. She could see people in the other room, even rooms away. They just seemed much smaller. Angels, demons, fellow nephilim. She smelt them too, which was new, since her sense of smell wasn't really he best. All of the sudden strange sensations left her confused, and sick. She felt sick. But it was an addicting kind of sick. The sick you feel after one too many drinks.

With a finger, Fury pushed open her bedroom door on silent hinges. She glided across the hall the instant she did. She ran face-first into the wall. When she fell back onto her bottom, she tapped a fingernail to the wall. She hadn't see in there. _Tap, tap, tap._ Something about that sound was a trigger. She tapped again. And again. And again and again and again. Over and over. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap__..._

The next thing she knew, She had her whip in her hand. She held it so tightly it hurt. She wandered down the hall, alone and silent. She hardly even breathed. She didn't need to. For the first time in her life, her head was clear. What did that demon do to her? The clown was behind her as of now, but for some reason, Fury didn't seem to care. Could she possibly be loosing her mind? Perhaps. But it felt wonderful. It made her suddenly aware of everything, and yet left her to her own devices. She was figuring everything out, and using this new feeling to her advantage. In her mind, everything was sorted out. The other part of her that was made to deal with her sufferings and grief was now her as a whole. She was made whole. She was aware of it all. She was aware that she was alive.

She felt something else there, too. Darkness. Those sweet whispers told her she needed to do things. It was strange, because she needed to kill people. A lot f people. People she knew she loved. But... the voices. Their tones were so sweet, so benevolent and overpowering, it was impossible to ignore their intentions. It was impossible to disobey them. They controlled her every move now, but she was okay.

She was alright.

She was alive.

* * *

><p>"Sister," Vindictus waved as he approached Fury in the hall. "I've been looking for you! The Ebon Sai wishes to speak with you!"<p>

That damn man. Always so... cheery.

Jesus Christ, so Scout called him, was the man Vindictus claimed to have been while he hid away on Earth. A clever man, Vindictus hid himself in the last place the Charred Counsel would thing to look for one of the Firstborn nephilim: among humans. There, he cast the most simple and yet hysterical illusions (or so Scout thought) to do nothing more that glorify himself. He tricked a virgin into thinking she had given birth to a son, then grew up to become Vindictus. A real "Bitch Move" Scout called it. He preformed that stunt to make himself seem amazing and revered and followed by millions. He played the part pretty well, too. He did stay among humans until the End War.

_Tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,__ tap, tap, tap..._

Fury stopped, halting her footsteps. She stared at him for a while when he kept talking. She had not been listening though. She could hardly hear him. She saw his lips moving, but she could not figure out the words. She didn't really know it, but she looked grim. His face faltered when his blue eyes locked with hers. Her eyes were changed. Rather than their vacant white, they were black. She had no pupil, but there was more black now than anything. She still possessed her white irises, but they were surrounded by a black, inky obscurity.

Those eyes came angry to her brother's. His eyes came afraid. But it looked like he knew what was wrong with her. He didn't make an attempt to run away from her. He just stood there, staring at her quietly. It was a sympathetic stare. A sweetly sympathetic stare.

"Sister, I'm so sorry." He breathed. "This shouldn't have happened..."

She lashed out at him, wrapping her whip around his throat. He didn't fight back, he just stood there, like he was absolutely helpless in this situation. Fury could feel herself tightening her grip on the hilt of her whip even more while she twirled the rest of it around her brother's throat again. And then she began to feel herself pull.

_Wait, this is all wrong! This shouldn't be happening! Why am I doing this?! Why can't I stop myself?! _

Again and again, Fury screamed in her mind. This was going horribly wrong. She tried to close her eyes against all of the horror of what she was doing. Not again, she thought, not this again. She couldn't take watching her beloved brother's death again. She had seen it all enough. Her other half could deal with this much more easily than she herself could do, but she was gone now. She tried desperately to find her, somewhere in the grey emptiness of her mind, but she was nowhere to be seen. She couldn't feel her.

Fury was one. And she was losing control.

* * *

><p>Azreal gave a heavy sigh as he shoved his scrolls and tomes here and there. He remembered having the huge leather bound book lying somewhere around here. He had it with the rest of the prophecies he had there earlier. He supposed in the heat of his and Scout's excitement, he may have placed it somewhere else, but he couldn't think of where. It was starting to irritate him. He knew it was somewhere around here...<p>

Ah ha! Here it is! Right on the floor beside the desk! Must have dropped it. He guessed that's simply what happens when he gets himself all worked up. Still, he thought it was kind of funny. Well, now he should probably go and deliver this to Phoenix. he still wondered what she wanted with his journal. To what purpose what it serve her? Honestly, Azreal didn't see it. But she asked, and he sought to deliver.

He quietly closed the door behind him, making sure to keep the door on the same level as the wall, where it blended in like it was nothing. He jumped when he heard a loud shriek. It was a blood curdling-scream of horrific pain. Another of prolonged agony. And another of sheer, unadulterated terror. He bolted down the hall and saw a few angels running, some soldiers heading toward the threat. They shoved him aside like he was a mere scribe himself.

In a desperate search for answers, Azreal looked this way and that through swarms of rushing Hellguard and squabbling Scribes. He flew up the stairs and was greeted by more primal screams. Blood and weapons littered the floor, some clumps and piles of organs were found here and there. A few hearts, entrails, other nasty bits. Azreal watched as flocks of angels poured out through hallways and staircases screaming, "The Horseman has gone mad! The horseman has gone mad!"

A tiny figure in the corner got his attention. Little Frangipani huddling in the corner, covering her head. She looked terrified. Azreal glided over and lifted her up from under her arms. All he saw down the corridor opposite of him was a hooded figure dismembering a fellow angel. By the way its knees were bent backward, he guessed it was an akuma. Nasty little things. Frangipani screamed when she saw all of the dead bodies.

Just then, Phoenix came flying out of a random hallway. She was stark naked. She did however, have what looked like bedsheets tied around her hip. _Thank God_, Azreal thought as she bolted over and grabbed her baby, _at least she has some modesty_. Somehow, she didn't look that odd. Other than her pretty face and wide hips, she looked like a young boy; lean, muscular, and flat-chested.

Still... Still... Mother of God, Phoenix...

She didn't say anything to Azreal, other than to run. She said so with the most fierce tone he had ever heard sweep through her parted lips. Already, she had snatched the book in one arm, scooped Frangipani up in the other, and was tearing down the hall. She was dripping wet. Frangipani clutched Scout's throat as she was carried away. Phoenix shouted over her shoulder to run, to keep away from Fury, whatever he did, but Azreal had no idea what she was talking about. He had no idea what she could possibly be talking about.

And then he looked over his shoulder.

Ivory white eyes locked with fiery orange and black ones. He saw the half opened eyes, the painted face, the wicked grin. Then, Azreal did something he hadn't done in a long, long time. He shrieked like a little girl.

It was a clown. A motherfucking _**clown**_. And it was killing everyone. Worse, it was killing everyone with Shadow Matter.

* * *

><p>It felt as if a white hot rod of power slammed through her skull. Fury cried out as she clamped her hands to her head. Nothing in her entire life could have prepared her for the font of pain erupting in her mind. The room was going black. She felt the floor smack her face. Her arms and legs twitched with agony. Baleful laughter danced through the swirling torture, like a tornado through a ruin. Fury silently begged to black out, but it was all in vain.<p>

All around her, she heard voices. **_"Serve us. Make us whole, again."_**

"NO!" Fury screamed. "NO! Let me go!"

_**"Serve us."**_

"NO! HELP ME!"

_**"Serve us."**_

"Ergo!" she screamed the only name she could think of, the only one she felt could save her from this pain. "Ergo! Help me! _Ergooo~!"_

Fury's body jerked violently. She was alone in a cage of her own mind, in a grip of terror and Primordial pain. She was lost again, begging for the comfort and protection of her sister, wailing for the nephilim she had already slaughtered. In the darkness of her mind, she could hear the Shadows screaming at her, demanding she give herself to them. The raw pain in her throat was starting to worse and worse. She was aware of the shouts and cries of the Shadows in her head, but she tried with everything she had to ignore their pleading.

She was screaming more frantically then she ever had in the whole of her life. Her face and fingers were wet with blood. She had bloody scratches on her eyelids, eyebrows, and cheeks from trying futile to claw her eyes open, to wake herself from this horrid nightmare. She was scared to open her eyes though, she had seen enough of what she had done.

Securii was dismembered. Kolo was decapitated. Ergo was disemboweled. Phobia had been drug out of the safety of her dark room and hung by her own web. Fury had already decapitated Vindictus. Everyone was dead. Every angel she came into contact with was slaughtered on sight. They were not nameless faces, though. There was Ruth, Amarida, Mydnis, Cronus, and a few others. Their names escaped her at the moment. She was too focused on the fact that everyone she loved was dead and it was all her fault.

Blood, vivid red against white skin, ran in rivulets down the sides of Fury's head from her ears. She felt like burning tendrils were wiggling through her brain. She was finished. She could never expect to survive this kind of Primordial torture. She was dead. She was dead the moment she breathed the wretched drug in. Nephilim could never survive taking the Shadow Matter. They simply weren't built for it. Now, Fury was dead, but her brain was still alive. Her mind still processed the pain. She still felt everything. She was simply too dead to do anything about it.

It was far too late when Death came running, skidding to her side at the last second on his knees. He scooped her head up and shouted at her to wake up. Her face looked horrid. It glistened with blood. He grabbed her shoulders in both hands and shook her. He thought for a moment he accidentally snapped her neck. She was just limp. Limp and dead.

Something spilled out of her mouth. It was so black, it looked purple. He didn't know what this strange substance was. He should have ran. But, then again, that wouldn't have helped him either. It was already on his fingers. It made them itch. Then from nowhere, it was on his arms. It fizzled until it disappeared into his skin. Then his arms itched. Then they burned. The burn worsened. More and more of the black fluids spilled from Fury's skull and slithered almost to Death, proceeding to crawl up his boots, pant legs, and torso. The itching burn was maddening. Frantically, Death scratched and clawed at his skin, trying, almost, to rid himself of the tainted skin. To carve the corrupted flesh away from his being, and maybe survive.

No. It was taking him. It was seizing control of him.

**_Serve us._**

**_Your guilt will vanish._**

_**You will be whole again.**_

_**No need to hide from yourself anymore.**_

_**Serve us.**_

_**Serve us.**_

_**Serve us.**_

_**Serve us.**_

* * *

><p>Phoenix's heart pounded in her head. Slow and steady, but loud. She let Frangipani go when she felt a sudden blow to her back. Something had grazed her. She told Frangipani to run and avoid all of the hallways. Find a window, she said, fly far away from here. She would find her. She spun around and saw what looked like a demoniod clown smiling back at her. Holy shit, that look. It scared her more than anything else about her. More than her claws, more than her Backward bent knees, more than her eyes. Those eyes mocked her and everyone around them. Mocked their pain. Lucien's journal fell from her hand when Scout realized what she was doing here, and what she had done. What she had done to Fury.<p>

The demon's hand stretched out toward Scout quickly, and sent an invisible mass of air forth. The blast sent Scout into the air, across the intersection of hallways, knocking her down the stairs behind her. She covered her head as best as she could. But it all happened so fast. As up and down changed and distorted in her head, she heard Azreal screaming. She couldn't make out the words, they didn't sound past the ringing in her ears. Azreal was swearing, she knew that much. She knew a few choice sounds. She would have laughed had she not been in such pain. She would be laughing. But the clown was laughing in her stead.

Azreal's heart hammered against his ribs. He wasn't the type of man to scare easily, being the stewart to the very Well of Souls, where souls and monsters of every sort imaginable came to pass on. But, if there was anything in this universe he hated more than anything, it was clowns. He knew trying to cast any kind of spell on this demon would be a futile and stupid thing to do, but it seemed his hands had a mind of their own. He cast a sphere of white, cold energy in the demon's direction, which was only absorbed by a swift and sudden black portal that consumed the blow before it even managed to get close to her.

He felt something smack his face. He saw her hand move to smack at him, but she was too far away to even possibly- his heart skipped a beat- She stabbed him.

Azreal pressed his fists into his abdomen. It was warm and wet. He crumpled to his knees, tried to ignore the pain of the action, but it was so horrid. Another blow was delivered to his head. He felt blood run swiftly into his eyes. He felt the wound with the tips of his fingers, but he felt no skin. It was hard there. Bone hard.

He needed to get back up, needed to get to Phoenix. He had to help her. He couldn't let her get hurt again. Couldn't let her die again. He would soon die before he let that happen. He screamed at the demon as she strode closer. She was laughing, mocking hr actions. Mocking him. Mocking his pain, his fear, his worry.

She brought a leg up and swiftly kicked him across the face, sending the Angel of Death reeling across the floor. Lying on his face on the cold marble, he tasted his own blood. Down the corridor, wide teal eyes stared back in horror. _Run, _he thought, _run away from here, Frangipani._ Oh God, that poor little thing. She was so terrified.

This was all Abrigor's fault, he thought.

Scout strained to put voice to her burning concern. She heard Azreal curse again. Heard more squeaking, shrill laughter. Then, she heard the sounds of what sounded like tearing paper, and spilling water. Then Azreal was quiet. Scout sucked in a breath and listened for his breathing, listened for the faintest sign of him. But she knew...

Rage. Wrath. Fury. Hate. That was all Scout's brain was processing at this time. This demon was a monster who did nothing but kill, destroy, and cause trouble. The black emptiness around her eyes made that apparent. She killed Azreal. Right above her. She killed the only person Scout ever had as a father, the only person who ever loved her that way. Her family was next.

Suddenly, she heard the sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs. The demon was covered in blood. Blood and matted feathers. Her painted face was split with a sadistic grin. That grin spoke to Phoenix. Hot tears stung her eyes as the clown knelt down and grabbed a fistful of blonde curls in her bloody, striped glove. She was made to look at her eyes, the roiling inferno of corruption and evil magic. With her other hand, Kijara pinched Scout's nose.

"you hurt any... more of my... family, I'll... kill you... bitch." Scout hissed through clenched and bloody teeth.

Kijara laughed. That was the last thing Scout wanted to hear. Christ, she hated this bitch's laugh.

"You mean that sweet little angel baby of your's? Oh no no, I wouldn't dream of it. I only want to hurt you, Phoenix." She dropped Scout's head back to the marble and laughed as she kicked her in the side of the head. She heard a loud crack. "And through her, you will suffer."


	24. Virgo

The familiarity of the air around him was almost like he was asleep in his own room the entire time. He felt like nothing had happened at all. Like he was completely fine and that the whole clown episode was all some horrid nightmare. In his mouth, he still tasted blood. His head hurt something awful; it felt like it had been bashed in with a stone club. His stomach felt dreadfully ill. He felt as though the rom he was in was spinning, rolling, and tilting, and when he tried to close his eyes against the blinding whiteness of his enviornment, the feeling only worsened.

Brightness? He remembered that it was dark when he encountered that bloody akuma. Why was this light bothering him so much?

Azreal made an effort to sit himself up, and as he felt around, he felt smooth silk sheets beneath him. Well, this was all kinds of wrong. He wasn't feeling right. He wasn't in the right place. He opened his eyes, squinting against the bright light, and peered into his lap. Oh god, he thought. He was without his clothes. In a state of sudden discomfort, he nervously pulled the sheets up over his lap. His eyes darted this way and that, checking to see if he was alone. He noticed that he knew this place. This was once his private loft back at the Crystal Spire in Lostlight.

How could this be? Everything felt real, and he could not detect any sign of an illusion being played on him. Instantly, paranioa too a firm hold of him. What i this was some cruel joke played on him by that dastardly Shadow Wielder? What if all of this was just a trick? He knew this not to be a dream, or an illusion, so if this was not the formers, what could it be?

"Something amiss, my love?" a female voice sounded from across the room, where Azreal's back faced. This was not a nameless voice.

Azreal's head spun, facing the woman and pulling the sheets up over his chest. That action drew a smile from the woman by the door. She drummed her pretty nails against the top of his ornate desk, smiling that sweet smile of hers. Azreal's heart leapt up into his throat when he saw those light violet eyes shining back at him. He suddenly found himself shaking. With bittersweet longing, he remembered lying with that woman, his beloved. His white eyes glistened with tears. He let his hand drop the sheets and allowed himself to be exposed as he turned to face her. His jaw hung open in a look of utter disbelief, as well as awe. It was her. The love of his life, alive and in the flesh.

"P-Penumbra?" he breathed. His lips hardly moved.

Quickly, as if she could not take being away from him a moment longer, the young nephilim rushed over and siezed the Angel of Death in a searing embrace, crushing her lips against his. She sat herself across his lap and cradled his head with one hand. The other wrapped itself around the back of his neck. Azreal found himself stunned at the event taking place before him. So long Penumbra had been dead, and he had never seen her soul pass through the Well of Souls. So many sleepless nights and waking nightmares that followed in the death of his beloved, and the murder of his son.

Azreal suddenly jerked back, shoving Penumbra off. This was definitely a trick. He knew this. Penumbra was dead, murdered by her own brother. She was dead. He hadn't seen her in countless centuries, save the few nightmares and horrid flashbacks he had after her untimely death. She looked real enough, felt real. He wouldn't let himself be tricked though...

"I know what you must be thinking, but trust me, my love, this is no illusion. You are simply dead. This is a memory of yours in which your mind has subconscious set a location for you to awaken. This world, though, is not Lostlight. Not even close. This is my home. This is Tundra." Penumbra's soft, sweet, and musical voice reassured. She placed her hands on Azreal's and stroked his wrists with her thumbs. "This place is where faithful members of the Nine's children go after their death. If they so choose to venture there, they might arrive at a palace of their Primordial Lords. Like where I live. I live among other Frostbane's Exalted Ones."

That was enough. But it couldn't be. He was dead. He needed to be alive. He needed to look after Phoenix. If he was dead, who would look out for her? Who would protect her, and be there when she needed guidance? She was only a little girl! She could never make it on her own! Oh, what was he to do? Sorrow quickly grabbed a hold of the angel and sent him in a downward spiral of self loathing. In a state of dispair, he lost control of himself and wept into Penumbra's shoulder. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ What was he thinking? trying to fight back when confronted by a Shadow Wielder?! He should have ran! He should have absconded at that moment, especially when he discovered that the akuma was some kind of demonic clown. He should have fled, should have protected Phoenix. His little girl...

But she wasn't so little anymore. He had to remind himself that. She was stronger than even he knew, stronger than she even came close to realizing. He knew that, too. He supposed that he didn't have to be there to hold her hand every step of the way on this journey. She was a young woman, in her standards, she was an independent spirit. A free spirit. She could not be tamed. Not even Uriel could put a leash of discipline on that child.

But fear wormed its way into his heart. Fear she should fail.

"Dead? I can't be dead yet. I-I have to look after her..." Azreal murmured when he looked up into his lover's eyes. "What if she needs me?"

"Hush, I know. I have been watching." She consoled. "You know you can't be there forever, Azreal. She is a warrior, not a child. She can take this now. And don't fear this. You will see her again very soon, I promise."

Fingers stroked Azreal's hair. How long he had missed that touch, the touch that only his long dead love could deliver. The tears tickled as they trailed down his cheeks. He wished they would stop. Wished he could control himself, but it was no use. He had left his child alone in the world.

But she wasn't alone. She had Sabrina, and the other angels, the ones that weren't killed. She still had an entire race of family remaining. She had friends as well. Her and war seemed to get along. He didn't want to simply accept the fact that he was dead and she would be fine without him. That was not the way he planned on going on about this.

Finally collecting himself, he stopped his weeping. Penumbra kindly rubbed his shoulders. "You said I would be able to see her again very soon-" he started, trying to still his breaths. "-what does that mean? How will I see her again?"

"She will dream about you. Whatever memory stands out at that certain time will be the place where the meeting will take place. If there is no memory, you will simply be cast outside of the Diamond Citadel, my current home." Penumbra whispered. "You will see her again soon, my love. I promise you that. She might even call your spirit forth while she is awake. How this should happen, I do not know."

Azreal wiped a weary hand across his face. "So, that clown did kill me." he harrumphed. "Grand. Now I'll never live that down. Even in my death! Azreal, Angel of Death, most powerful archangel alongside Michael himself, was killed by a... serial killer clown! An akuma, no less!" He groaned and let his chin drop to his chest. "It can't get any worse, can it?"

"I'm sorry, Azreal-" Penumbra said as she winced. "-but it can."

Azreal blinked. "Worse?! You're lying to me! Why do you have to be so~" his words trailed off as Penumbra placed a cold finger on his lips.

"Yes things are worse, I'm afraid. You know that child emerged in Shaurna, correct? What is her name?"

"Her name is Frangipani. Frangipani Grace."

Penumbra smiled. "My, that is such a sweet name." Her smile turned to a look of urgency. "But that is besides the point. She was not the only child. There is another. Born that very same day. In the Kingdom of Hell."

Azreal's throat clenched itself shut. He almost found himself swearing, but it was quickly controlled. An angelic child born in Hell?! What the hell was the universe doing?! It was like things were going this way to purposely set him off into a fit of rage. This was beyond unacceptable. He said so to Penumbra. She looked to have understood. She knew how much this man adored children, and knew that the very idea of one falling into the wrong hands terrified him. That was the last place he ever wanted to imagine an angelic child ending up.

"Please tell me you're lying to me." he breathed.

"I'm sorry. But it is the truth. And I'm afraid he was given Shadow Matter."

Azreal, not caring whether or not he was clothed, shot up from his seat on the edge of his round bed. "What?! It's only a child! What are they thinking?!"

"They are thinking he will take it much better. They gave the Shadow Matter to the bubble before he was born, and he emerged... sick."

Azreal let his face drop into his hands as he slowly sat back down. "Impossible. No, no, no! This cannot be happening! He can't be-"

"The Angel of Darkness? No, he isn't. He can be helped, I think." Penumbra reassured. "But the Angel of Darkness is still to come."

Azreal suddenly felt sick. All he wanted was to fix this, or return to life and restore what he could. The thought of a child infected with Shadow Matter made him want to just roll over and glanced over at the large window in the far corner of the room. Outside, he saw a moon that wasn't native to Heaven. Two of them, actually. He watched for a while as fat flakes of snow fell in from above. He was dead. He was dead and there was really nothing he could do. It was not possible for him to use his magic to resurrect himself. There were certain rules when it came to reviving the dead. If he was here, than he had no life left in his body. His soul has passed on completely. there was no going back.

Unless Death came along and spoke with him, of course. Just like him to come around and snatch up an unsuspecting soul from their rest just for an interview. He hoped, though, that Death did come by. He wanted to tell him to keep an eye on Phoenix.

"Listen, Azreal," Penumbra whispered as she tugged at his arm. "get dressed and leave your room. There is someone you have to meet, someone who will be pleased to see you. he will help in your watching over Phoenix. He will also help you get the hang of things here, in Tundra. You will learn to adapt quite well here."

"But, who is this person?"

Penumbra smiled. "I would hate to ruin the surprise. You'll know when you see him."

* * *

><p>Azreal was nervous to open the door, but knew he would not regret doing so. He did feel chilled, however, to grab hold of the doorknob and proceed out of his room. It was a comforting and familiar place to be. It was once his sanctuary. The safest place he could think to go when he was stressed. It was also the place he had conceived of his son, which that thought there made him sometimes hate this place. Sometimes he loved it here, other times he resented it. He had grown up in that loft, made love in that loft, grieved the death of his beloved and unborn son in that loft, and planned, preyed, and plotted in that loft. It was a grand place, filled with churning and pleasant memories.<p>

Slowly, carefully, he opened the door. Farewell to the loft he had not seen in nearly a month.

In a blink, almost instantly, he was greeted with summer fresh, salty air. Open windows all around. He heard the ocean outside. He felt thick carpets beneath his bare feet. He was still dressed, but not in his casual indigo tunic and black trousers. He was wearing a v-neck shirt and blue jeans. Good God, he hadn't seen those ragged things in ages. Hadn't seen this house in forever. Hadn't seen the crisp cream walls and hard wood floors that captured the sun everywhere he walked. The mirror on the wall caught him. When he looked, he saw all of his features, but no wings, no runes, and to make things more heart-wrenchingly familiar, brown eyes stared back.

This was his home on Earth. Where he and Michael and Phoenix lived among humans, like normal people. Their home in Newcastle, out by the ocean.

Azreal's heart leapt up into his throat while he took the whole of the place in. He glanced behind him, in hopes of seeing there was a connection from his old room to this wonderful house, but when he looked, there was nothing there. Just a few plaid over garments hung up or tossed lazily about the floor. Great, he had just emerged from a closet. Wonderful. Things were already starting to make sense.

He heard a commotion coming from outside the windows by the front door. Something that sounded like a falling book on concrete. Oh god. He wasn't alone. For a moment, as he went to investigate, he hoped it was Michael. Than again, he didn't want to discover that his closest friend, as well as Phoenix's father, was dead. His presence there would have meant he was dead. Instead, he was met by a figure reclining back on a lawn chair, reading.

The tumble down blonde hair was one indicator of the identity of this man. Another was the size of his seated form. Decently large for an angel without his dual wings, Azreal supposed. He remembered him a bit bigger. Than again, in the guise of a human, his proportions were a bit altered. The other was those arresting green eyes. Originally, he had eyes so golden, they were near invisible against the rest of his face. when those eyes looked up into Azreal's, a great grin split his face.

"Azreal?" he laughed, shooting up from his seat. He was wearing jeans, too.

"L-Lucien?" the Angel of Death stuttered. "God, man, is that really you?!"

Lucien grabbed Azreal by his neck in the crook of his arm and mussed his white hair everywhere. "In the flesh, old friend! God, I've waited so long to see your face again!" Lucien laughed. After a brief noogie, he shoved Azreal away. "But not long enough. What happened? Why are you here?"

"I'm dead, unfortunately. I was killed."

"By what? What could possibly touch you?!" Lucien asked, wiping his face with his hand.

"A Shadow Wielder... A... clown..." Azreal muttered, looking away toward the steep hill. He watched the ocean while Lucien stared dumbly at him in utter disappointment.

"A clown killed you? Azreal... You let a clown kill you." Lucien facepalmed and shoved Azreal out of his way, heading toward the front door and back into the house. "Azreal, ever since you read that Stephen King garbage, you've been terrified of clowns! I told you not to read that one! Any other silly human novel! Any other one! But no, you had to read the one about the serial killer clown. Great going there, friend. Wonderful job."

Azreal sometimes hated Lucien's smug sarcasm. It drove him mad at some times. Other times, he was just arrogant and prideful, in spite of himself. Still, Lucien was like a brother. An annoying, irksome, and really conceited older brother, but an older brother nonetheless. Azreal could still say he loved him, even despite the person he was. Even despite what he had done.

"Lucien, what are you doing here? I was unaware that you had died." Azreal called as he dove inside after him.

"I never passed through the Well of Souls, brother. I died, and because I actively believed in my Primordial gods, they granted me a place in their Dream Kingdom. Thank Alvos I wasn't tossed into the Darkness for my crimes... That... Well, let's just say I'm lucky to be here."

Azreal laughed and reclined on the soft sofa beside of Lucien. "I had no idea that you were an active believer."

"Remember when I crafted the Rod of Arafel?" Lucien asked out of the corner of his eye. "I crafted it to resemble the sigil of Light, Father Alvos's prime mark in his Kingdom of light, Sol Invictus. The crosses are a symbol of his lighting crossroads, the place where the Light emerges once it is crafted."

Azreal's brows rose up. "Really now? I honestly didn't recognize it. What did Hestus have to say about it?"

Lucien grinned and shook his head. "Please. I had to convince him it was a joke or some kind of symbolism to get him to let me keep the initial design. It was no easy feat. You know Hestus. Always suspicious."

Azreal had to laugh at that. Talking about Hestus was always something a great many angels enjoyed doing. They all grew into the habit of poking fun at the old man, simply because of his quirks. He was rather fussy, obsessive, compulsive, pessimistic, paranoid, and a tad rude sometimes, but he was still the hilarious old man everyone seemed fascinated with. Of course, in his time, Archon Hestus knew of few who really _really_ respected him. Everyone else just loved to poke fun at him. Not even the Hellguard were immune to this small custom among the students of the Archons.

If Phoenix knew him, she would agree, that man was a nut.

"So. You're dead now. How did that happen?" Azreal asked, not thinking he could muster the gumption to ask.

Lucien leaned over, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Caffeine and nicotine were the best things humanity had ever come up with, Lucien had said. Azreal thought it was a disgusting habit. He listened as Lucien tapped one out and lit it with a fingertip.

"Death, dear Azreal, saved my delicate ass."

Azreal's frown turned perplexed. "Death? Lucien, what did you do?"

"I was weak, brother. I was taken by a force of supernatural nephilim magics, called Corruption. I wasn't thinking or acting clearly. Surely, you understand such a thing."

"Lucien, that isn't remotely funny. Just because I made a mistake, doesn't mean you still have a right to belittle me because of it. I know what I did. I know how awful it was. You weren't there to experience what I had done to my beloved Earth."Azreal retorted with a grim look.

Lucien stroked a mass of tangled of his blonde hair back behind his head. His smirk didn't hide his regret. That was a stupid thing to say. He truly knew nothing of the pain Azreal had felt at having instigated such actions. Wile he had spent his last moments twisted by the horrendous force of the Corruption, Azreal spent his in a still set of emotions. Even though much time had passed since he had committed his actions, still, he had not forgiven himself. That, and he left Phoenix behind.

"I know. I'm sorry, Azreal. That was uncalled for." Lucien drawled, like he wanted only Azreal to hear his words. As prideful a man as Lucien was, Azreal knew he would respond in such manner. Always had.

"I know you are, Lucien. But this is besides the point. I need a little help understanding this place." Azreal said, dismissing the apology, as it seemed. "I have no clue what I should be doing here. I know I am supposed to find a watch over Phoenix, but I don't think I know how unless it is with the use of some spell I know I don't have access to right now. Most of my power is linked to my connection to the Well of Souls. I am without that magic now."

Lucien shook a finger at him, patting his chest, knocking the breath out of the Angel of Death. He was always a softie. "I know. You'll have to use the magic in the world around you. Tundra emits its own current of Celestial magic that easier allows us to manipulate our natural abilities here. This is a celestial place, brother. Only our kind can use this place to their own advantage."

Lucian stood from the sofa and opened the window, revealing the white beach and crystal blue waters. The air smelled of salt. Oh, the memories that air brought back. The White City hardly ever offered him that comfort. Lucien gave him the smuggest look Azreal had ever seen, and snapped his fingers. The very instant he did so, the sandy beach of Newcastle was gone, replaced by a bright blanket of snow and glaciers off in the distance. If he wasn't mistaken, Azreal thought he saw a small forest dotting at the top of that glacier. Flakes of snow fell in soft reverence for the place around them.

"Azreal," Lucien started. "You have always been the one to show me the ropes of things. Now it's my turn. Let me show you something..."

* * *

><p>War could hear her calls from where he was and in a a fury of confusion, he was quick to get the little Trickster and ensure that she would stay with him. She seemed frightened enough. She had reported to him having many reflections on this event, even though it had yet to happen. He figured she would be terrified, having seen the outcomes of a few different situations leading up to her demise. War had a plan, however. There were a few secret compartments in this place he had known about, and having seen more than he really wanted to, he knew the perfect place to hide Karma: in the walls.<p>

There were a few places in this grand temple where the walls were actually hallow, and a few small doors led to secret corridors that wormed their way through ceilings and under rooms, leading you outside. War found the proper place and placed Karma within the walls, so as not to be seen. She could not accompany him where he was going, that much he knew, but he did know he could hide her.

"Karma, listen to me," War growled over the shouts and cries of forlorn misery coming from down the hallways.

A little cough. "Yes father?"

"I am hiding you here in this compartment in the wall. It should be safe enough for you here, so long as you don't make a noise. If you do, the Shadow Weilder will find you and she will kill you. You've seen it, correct?"

She nodded. "Yes, father. I have. It was horrible."

"Well, we want to avoid that... I want to avoid that. Look, just stay here and you will be safe. And be quiet. As quiet as you can possibly be."

"I will, father. Or, I'll try. I am awfully sick..." the Trickster muttered, holding herself across her gut like she had been stabbed. Her paled face displayed pain, not of the wounded pain War was most familiar with, but of a disease. A disease known to residents of the Second Kingdom as the Merihim. This sickness had no known cure, and was always fatal. All who were reported sick were either outcasted and died on their own, or killed and burnt so as not to spreads the disease any further. This day and age, the disease was well maintained. Few demons were reported sick, and few were contaminated. Now, for some reason War couldn't begin to think of, his child was struck with it, seemingly from nowhere. There couldn't possibly be a way she could have gotten the sickness, unless she was to come into contact with another demon who already had it.

War slammed his fist onto the edge of an unseen mechanism behind the paneling of the wall. When it opened to him, he mentioned Karma to crawl inside. It was a tight fit, but she managed to get herself in and turn herself about.

"Father, are you sure this is such a clever idea? It's very dusty in here..." she sniffled out, trying to face him over her shoulder.

"You will be fine. Just keep crawling until you can't hear the screams as much. You'll be fine, Karma, I promise." War consoled. He knew she was terrified.

"Father!" she called out to him. "Know this: if you are taken by the Darkness, don't resist! You'll die! Just let it happen! I saw a little of what might happen if you did. You would get very ill, father, and you will not get any better." She stretched her hands out and signed him. It was sign language for "I love you" he was reluctant to return the gesture, but when he mustered the guts to do so, the wall closed. Great. he had his chance and missed it.

Karma was always so open about her affections toward him. Even when she first met him. Even though she attacked him with lightening, she was still kind and cordial to him. It was only until he started doing unto her as she did unto him that she no longer assaulted him. After that, their relationship was not a bad one. War had even come to call her a friend. He trusted her, not as much as he trusted anyone else, but he trusted her nevertheless.

This had to work. Perhaps, if he hid her in the walls, the Akuma would never find her. Maybe she will live. Perhaps, even, Eris won't kill him. That was the part he was most concerned about. If he were to be honest with himself, he would recognize the terror that lingered in his mind at the thought of Eris being his executioner. What would she do to him, other than stab him, he wondered...

* * *

><p>Phoenix awoke from her mild coma with a start. Gone was the searing pain in her head, even then when she stood, blood poured anew from the gruesome gash. She could feel something was horribly amiss. That feeling that surfaced when she knew something bad had happened was stirring deep within her now, and she knew that the demon was still at large, infecting others. She knew, also, that her beloved child was in danger. As was the Horsemen. She knew one was already dead, but the whereabouts of the other three was still unknown to her. She had to find them, before any more got infected. She had to ensure that they would be safe from this threat. They couldn't get infected. She had to know which one was the Bastion of Light and protect them at all costs.<p>

God only knew what would happen if she failed in doing so...

She called out for the Horsemen, ushered angels out of the net of hallways to an exit, and called out for Olivia. She found Olivia after a lengthy search and sent her out to search for Frangipani. More importantly, she ordered her love to avoid the darker hallways as much as she possibly could. The Darkness was spreading, and even in the shadows, they were growing. Making things darker and darker with every passing moment. Infecting everything they touched.

Up ahead, she saw the very thing she feared to: Fury laid motionless on the ground in a pool of blood. Violet locks were matted to the ground in sticky, cold blood, a very nasty scene. Phoenix investigated, searched for any signs of life, even a small pulse, but there was nothing. Just that frozen look of absolute terror. The vacancy of her white eyes made the look all the more horrified. This couldn't be happening. Fury and the Horsemen were supposed to be alive. She was supposed to protect them, just like she promised she would.

People ran and flew this way and that, seeking some sort of sanctuary from this sudden eruption of Shadow Matter. Scout recognized a few of the Hellguard soldiers. She tried to get everyone to settle down, but faced with Primordial magic, they all were aflutter with terror.

"Stop! All of you! Has anyone seen the other Horsemen?" she called over the sounds of all of their screams.

"No, Phoenix." A voice called out. It was Hezekiah. "I saw War escaping with the Trickster, but no signs of the others."

He didn't even have the decency to look sheepish about it. All creation feared and hated the Horsemen, and felt no loss in pride in admitting so. Some things never changed. It disappointed her as she looked over all of the apprehension on her companions faces. Were they still that heartless and closed minded? Even after all this time?

"If War escaped, That makes all of our jobs easier. We have to find the other Horsemen and keep them from getting contaminated. Don't worry, I'll think of something to slow this mess down, but we all have to hurry!" Phoenix called, not even noticing her fists sang with flames.

Lucky shouldered his way through the few sighs of relief that could be heard up and down the hall. By his expression, she guessed he might be a bit embarrassed to see her without any real clothes. "You will need help, Phoenix. I will go with you an see that you are unharmed." he said, mentioning to her... wet figure.

"Oh, blah blah blah, Lucky-chan, I'm fine! I can take care of myself!" the child shouted as she bolted for the stairwell.

Fury was dead, and War was escaping with Karma. But that begged the question: where were Strife and Death? She needed to find them fast and get them out of here. She needed to start a fire as well. Perhaps if she closed off a few choice areas, the Fire would slow things down. Sabrina had mentioned to her that the Shadows shied away from the light, but Fire would surely burn them away. Like a barrier of Shadow Matter proof fire.

Clever. Now if she could just find the other Nephilim and fight the rest of this Darkness off, if she could...

* * *

><p>Strife was on the far side of the room, near the wall where he must have been beaten. His helmet was broken to pieces, all scattered across the floor. He wasn't screaming like everyone else had been, but he shook like crazy, his arms and limbs thrashing against the marble floor. He was choking on his own blood.<p>

Phoenix bolted over, skidding to a halt on her knees , all bloody an bruised up from the long hard fight just to get past the Shadows. She gripped the shoulder of Strife's armor and yanked him to one side. She had to open his mouth. She leaned over from beside him and pushed her thumb against the back of the nephilim's jaw, forcing it forward. With her other hand, she pressed down on his chin, keeping his mouth open. She swpt her fingers through Strife's mouth a dozen times before she had cleared the airway.

"Breathe!" she shouted. "Breathe, Strife, breath!"

Phoenix slapped the prone nephilim on he chest, eliciting gurgling, wet, chocking coughs that finally brought a semblance of clear, gasping, breathing. Although he was still unable to breathe clearly, it didn't stop the spasms and convulsions. Scout felt helpless.

"Lucky! Find a healer! Anything! We have to help him!" she screamed in a fit of hysteria.

"I can't go back that way, Phoenix! It's teaming with Fire! I don't plan to roast alive today. You have to heal him yourself! You healed the Horseman War's arm, didn't you? Just do what you did there!" the hulking demon shouted from behind over the hissing and screeching of Shadow and Fire surrounding them.

"I can't! I don't know how I did what I did! What if I hurt him?!" Scout screamed as she pulled Strife's shoulders and head into her lap and held him tight. She tried to settle his convulsions. She had no idea what she could do, and had no idea how she could heal him. She knew more about hurting with the Fire than she did healing. She wished she knew how to heal now. She was sick of all the hurting.

"Hang on, Strife," she whispered as she smoothed his dark brown hair from his ashen and sweaty face. "I'll think of something..."

She pressed her cheek to the top of Strife's head and closed her eyes. SHe didn't want him gone, after all. She wanted him to stay. SHe was supposed to protect him. She felt hot tears running down her face. She didn't want Strife to die.

Scout didn't know why she should feel so much for this man, except, maybe, because nobody else did. His brothers disliked him. Had any of them escaped, they wouldn't have even attempted to go in after him, save Fury, perhaps. He might have choked on his own blood and died. Something as simple as that, not demon magic, could have killed him. Maybe they wouldn't go back because they were afraid, or because they truly hated him.

"Hold on, Strife. I care." She smoothed his hair back from his clammy forehead, planting a tiny kiss on his hairline. "I care, I want you to live."

Phoenix squeezed the quaking man, as if trying to squeeze her concern, her words into him. It occured to her that Strife wasn't so different from herself. Strife was a jerk, after all. When it all came down to it, Scout was much the same. She was a little punk, as Strife was a huge one. She used a tortured past and lifelong habits as an excuse for her attitude all the time, but that wasn't so, she just loved to pester. She chose to be the way she was.

Dear God, she was no better than this poor bastard nephilim, now struggling at the cusp between life and death.

She could feel the armor he wore pressing against her gut as she held Strife. She wiped her cheek as tears fell more freely. Her back throbbed. She hurt all over. She wanted to lie down. Sabrina would be furious. So would Uriel. It hurt like hell to hold the trembling nephilim in her lap, but she refused to let go.

"Hold on, Strife. You're not alone. I'm here. I won't leave you, I promise."

* * *

><p><em>Angel of Death or not, I did not anticipate to see such bravery.<em>

_Truly, the nobility of the human spirit is a spectacular thing to behold. I found myself near tears when I watched the actions Phoenix undertook during her search for the Horsemen. I knew her mind would be in a haze at all of the sudden terrors, but she handled herself much better than I had anticipated. She tried to remain collected, even as she fought off the Shadows. She reminded me much of her father, how she defended those who were too weak or confused to fend for themselves, saving people, maintaining order. She was just like Michael._

_Somehow, she seemed more powerful in this state. I surmise that when she is faced with any threat, the power of her Primordial abilities surface, and she is able to manipulate them much easier. She did so very well in containing the Darkness that spread from Fury's corpse. She even shielded my own body so not to let it be possessed. I knew that, because I know her. She would protect me like that._

_Lucien was a bit shocked to see that the infant he had once knew would turn about and become such a valiant young soldier, as well as a fine example of a young woman. I was more than proud of what I saw, both from her, and of Lucien. He had asked me if she were some kind of troublemaker, to which I only said trouble seemed to be drawn to her like a shifter to Amber Cane. It made him laugh, but I suppose he guessed she wouldn't be as strong and quick witted as she proved to be. In fact, I believe she surpassed all of our expectations._

_I know now that she is capable of holding her own. Yes, she is still in need of guidance, but I know in my heart that she can and will find a way to fix the universe of all this Shadow Matter madness. She is too clever and stubborn to let this all slip through her fingers. She is strong, too. Even if she did go down, Lord forbid, she would go down with a fight. She is power beyond anything I could ever conceive of. She will gain access to that power soon enough. She simply needs to keep training herself. Keep pushing herself, like she always did. _She is the Phoenix, after all.

_I find myself saying that again and again in my mind. I remember when she first arrived at the White City. My being felt as if I was being shredded to pieces by a thousand daggers, because she was not a nameless face, and she was dying. Imagine that horror! The child I once loved more than anyone I had ever been charged with responsibility of, save Penumbra, was maimed and bloody, desperately clinging to what little life she had left. She needed me, for the first time in her life, and I was there, but in such circumstances, I am at a loss for words as to how devastating that was. How... heartbreaking..._

* * *

><p>Ivory felt the sting of the previous incision in her left leg even more so as Josephone tightened the leather straps that restrained her to. She wasn't to move until the Shadow Master saw her. Like she couldn't get any more terrified than what she already was. Those demons were horribly rough with her, and knew nothing of mercy, it seemed. They always looked at her, measuring worth by her looks, it appeared, and tormented her with their stark profanity.<p>

Now, she was bound and helpless, in a dank, cold, stone prison in a place she feared to have ever ventured to. She knew she was trapped in the realm of the Second Kingdom, and she knew nobody was coming to rescue her. She supposed this was coming at some point. She had predicted that the outcome of running off with Atrocor was a most painful death. He had even said so once himself. Still, it was no consolation. She was still terrified to meet her doom, and every second she lie and wait was an agonizingly painful eternity. At least, that's what it felt like.

And then she came.

The flurry of fire and smell of brimstone would have been any demon, so Ivory thought. She expected an ugly figure; a horribly grotesque Master of Shadows to come to her side and take her life. But it was no so. The demon she was greeted with was beautiful. Her orange skin was a delightful contrast against all of the black leather she wore. The warm swarm of fire that seemed to grow from her scalp was a spectacle, unlike anything Ivory had ever seen. And her eyes, a beautiful emerald green backed by an inky blackness. Just like Zodiac's eyes, they were a delightful contrast of hues. Green on black.

Even still, her smile was all it took to diminish that beauty. That smile made her look terrifying. It was an evil smile, one that betrayed all of her beauty and twisted her image into that of a monster, rather than a queen. She sneered at Ivory, seeming pleased by her previous sobs of terror. She was evaluating her with her eyes. Ivory was used to such looks. Looks that determined her ability and worth. Mostly she would be looked upon disapprovingly, but over the past few months, she had grown accustomed to newer looks. Ones of friendship, admiration, approval, and love. This demon, though, was giving her no such look. She was looking at the young scribe like she was her meal-to-be.

"You will make an excellent test subject. Perhaps, even, my only prototype." her voice declared. Her voice was a sultry, dark sound, and seemed to make the rest of her seem more terrifying.

Tears flooded anew from Ivory's wide, champagne pink eyes. Abrigor loved they way they glowed, even in this low light. Their anguished light just fueled her desire. But, Ivory was not for her to have. No, she was saving her for someone more special. A gift, before she twisted and mutilated this angel's physical being into something far more powerful. But for now, he would want her to remain... sweet for him.

"What is your name, scribe?" Abrigor murmured, dragging a long fingernail up Ivory's exposed calves. She had exquisite ankles.

"I... I am I-Ivory." the young angel's voice quaked. She flinched at the demoness's touch, a positive response in Abrigor's eyes.

"Ivory..." the demon mused quietly. "Such a sweet name... Fitting for such a sweet looking young think like yourself..."

Quietly, Abrigor dragged her long claw up the inside of the angel's thigh. She gave a satisfied smile when she heard the other squeal. Her smile broadened when the angel tried to squeeze her legs shut. She was a cute thing. As Ivory squirmed and whimpered, Abrigor slid her hand up underneath of her robes, running her fingertips down her lower spine, counting her vertebrae and fingering the spaces between them. With her other hand, she trailed a claw from Ivory's chin down to the heart of her hidden cleavage. Her terrified whimpers were rapture. Perhaps, when Alistair was finished with her, she would have herself a turn at this little... precious thing.

"Well, I can already tell by your face that you're so vanilla, you make vanilla look spicy, so let me go and tend to a few things first, and I'll return and we'll get started on our... transition..."

Abrigor smiled and let her eyes take in Ivory again: soft, snow white hair that fell in delicate waves around her shoulders, big pink eyes, attractive features, lips of the sort many young angels possessed, but looked more like baby doll lips, a delicious looking neck, and a sweep of petite curves that not even a celestial scribe's robes failed to conceal. She was like a little china doll: frail, delicate, and fair.

She would be shattered to pieces by the time Alistair was finished with her.

And then the Angel of Darkness would be born.


	25. Libra

**Please don't hate me, but I think imma break some hearts here. I know, Libra is like, the law, right? well, i have no friggin clue. All I can say is that there will be little justice here, only a poem, some whales, and a possible ship.**

**Tis all I shall say, no spoilers.**

**That, and the parts written in the first person will be Uriel. I plan on writing in a poetic fashion, because she always sounded so poetic to me. Dont'cha think so too? She was always so literate, and knew just what to say! So intellectual and sharp-tongued! *fangurling***

** -love you all!**

* * *

><p><em>I am a soldier, Heaven was my home. I suppose the sanctity of my previous lifestyle has been preparing me for this moment, In which case I have no complaints whatsoever. I only wish I had not been so closed-minded. Maybe then, I might have pressed more, Learned, Remembered what happened to me.<em>

_To gain this recognition of self is something I never thought I would experience again or since, And I owe it all to Her, The one I would have called Mother. Child of the Frost; Child of the Nephilim. _

_Penumbra. The one who loved me first._

_I remember when I emerged unto the world, I was all alone. I knew not why, but I so longed to have been able to look into the eyes of another when I awoke, But I was all alone. I remember being near tears, I remember feeling cold, I remember feeling numbed, And then she appeared. She was a vision; the most beautiful thing I have ever seen before or since._

_I thought she was one of me, an angel, because of her white hair, But she was wingless, She had horns too. She came to me, with this sweet smile, And wrapped me up in a blanket. She made me speak for her, which I nearly couldn't through uncontrollable sobbing. Still, she was kind to me, and held me, Consoled me. I remember how she knelt down in front of me and closed her hands around mine. She filled it with something cold and hard. It made my skin prickle strangely. When she took her hands away from mine, in my palms was a crystalline rose. _

_**"Welcome home, little one."**_

_She was the fluid flux of compassion that griped me tight and raised me from the most wretched sorrow I had ever known: Being alone. The was the voice that guided my mind away from the coldness of the world around me, A coldness I came to accept. How ignorant of me. If only she had stayed. I might have been shielded from such poisonous lies._

_She named me. She told me that my name meant "Iron Rose." And from that moment on, when one of my fellow angels asked what I was called, I told them I was Uriel._

_I was not always so stricken, So stagnant a woman. Once, I was like all new things into the universe. I was innocent. I was kind. I was full of life and everything around me was a wonder to behold. My life was a brilliant thing, and although my many superiors were strict and often times numb to me, I always had Penumbra. She taught me how to dance. I always admired her when I was very young. She moved with such grace and poise, even when she went up on the very tips of her toes. I could never do that. Not even to this day. She would teach me how she moved, and so many times I would try and move like she. Many of my older peers thought my feeble attempts at grace were amusing. However, a few were extremely supportive. _

_Like Azreal. The one who loved me second._

_He was always so eager and excited to feed my curiosity, which seemed boundless in my youth. I always had to know. What was happening. What was going to happen. What had happened. I always had to know. Azreal was like a father to me. He was so wise, so knowing. He was always ready to share things with me, even if I desired not to know them. He was the most kind to me, as well. And I do think he was the only angel in the whole of Heaven who loved Penumbra as much as I did. _

_Azreal was the adoration of all the young angels at that time. There were many other young angels running around the Lostlight. There was Lucien, Heras, Mullinia, Delarus, Levanio, Mercury, Allani, Luke and Ignatius. We all adored Azreal, going as far as to follow him wherever he went. He was grand to all of us, our most favorite of all angels. He was my favorite. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say I was his favorite student._

_Throughout my young life, I spent much time with those I figured whom were my parents, but a time came when I had to depart from them for a while. I was being taken from Lostlight and into the White City to begin my flight training. As one might assume, flight is not an automatic reflex that ever angel is born with. It is a learned behavior. All angels, save a few, know how to move their wings when they are born, but none know how to use them. Which is why Aboddon was taking us from Lostlight to learn how to hone our abilities to take flight. Abbodon, while training us to lift our weight from off of the ground, also tested our defensive reflexes. He was testing us, to see who would be fit as a soldier, and who wouldn't._

_I was more than exceptional. Because of Penumbra, I was quicker on my feet than my peers. I was more nimble, and much more flexible. I was much stronger, too. I was born before all of the others, and I was taken very good care of by my mother, so I grew up stronger than the rest. (Thank you mother, for that.) Still, it was mt strength and compassion for my fellow comrades that made me so special. I was very special to Aboddon._

_Aboddon, He who loved me third._

_I remember the first time I took flight. Never before had I felt such freedom. Aboddon condoned Penumbra's audience while I started off, and I remember seeing her up in the rafters. She was so delighted to see how I had grown. She was beyond elated to see how I had blossomed for her, as is expected of a mother. When I landed before her and told her of the view, she was brought to tears. At that moment, I was no longer a child. That freedom, that feeling I received when I first took to the air with my brothers was the most incredible thing I have ever remembered. I can not even begin to describe it._

_Years went by and I felt as though I was choking on my own success as a young soldier. I was naver allowed to see my mother, she had to make the long journey to see me, and it seemed to be a trying task. At times, I would take a breath and stop, watching all of the people living their simple lives. I felt somehow alienated from all of my peers. When others decided they wanted to go out and explore the islands surrounding the Imundii Spire, I would rather have spent time with my mother, or Azreal. Some times, I would stay with Aboddon and we would train together. Just the two of us._

_Then, one day, I remember I was in my second century, and my mother said she was going to go off somewhere, to meet with her brothers. I knew my mother was Nephilim, an unholy race. That I never understood. How could a race so damned make a woman like my mother? It wasn't possible. I thought she was a grand mistake. Still, she was off-world to check with one of her brothers. Azreal forbade it, but she allowed me to follow her. I never expected to be met with such fearsome and fantastical warriors, but I was met by a few other nephilim at a place Mother called Ehromn. I met her older brothers Death, Strife, Nova, and her older sister Lucina. They were all so intimidating, the most ferocious people I had ever seen. I think during the whole of this visit, I said nothing. I just stood and marveled at the nephilim before me._

_I especially remember Death. He regarded me coolly, however when Mother mentioned I was hers, he was surprised and afterwords treated me very respectfully. He went as far as to ask me my name. Of course, I didn't speak. I suppose I was too afraid to. Given the circumstances, I think anyone would have been terrified to speak before Death himself. Any child, I should say. I know I was, and I have no shame in admitting it._

_The way Death acted towards me was as if he was pleased with me. Pleased with the idea that there was someone my mother could love as much as she wanted, and not be scorned as she once was. I know that much, now. I know her life was hard before she fled and sought the White City for aid. She looked proud, too. Proud of me, for some reason. She seemed to look like having me there with her made her feel safer. I suppose that would be a good thing._

_Then, one day, she told me while I laid in my bed that was going to meet up with her former Protector, War. She told me to stay behind, and work with Aboddon. I didn't want to, so I followed her. I had to lie to Azreal in order to do so, but I just wanted to go with her. I wanted to meet more of her fellow Nephilim._

_I wish I hadn't._

_When I arrived, the place that was once a desert was now covered in snow. It was so thick and so deep, I had a bit of trouble trudging about. I attempted to fly, but it was so windy, I was swept up into the air and knocked into a cluster of leafless trees. I was forced to walk, but I knew not where to go. There were no footprints. I instead followed the wind. I knew my mother held powers over the ice, so wherever the wind blew, surely she was there. I could not hear very well over the whistling of the bitter wind, and the cold had stung my face to the point of reddening my nose, but as I waled further, I heard screaming._

_Somehow, I knew it was my mother screaming. I knew she was screaming from terror, and pain. Mostly pain._

_I drew closer, dreading to see the cause of my mother's absolute terror and pain, but I was not prepared for what I saw. I saw... her... lying on her stomach in the snow, while this man, I still know not who he was, pounded away on her back with his massive fists. I could hear bones breaking as mother cried desperately for him to stop. Why she didn't fight back is not all that clear to me. Perhaps, she knew the magnitude of her power, and wanted not to hurt him. Still, he flipped her over and hurled away at her face._

_I found the contents of my stomach lurching up into my throat as I watched and listened. He called her such horrid things. She kept on screaming that she was with child, not to hurt her. He didn't stop though. I wanted to scream at him, and when I did, the look in his eyes terrified me. There was nothing there. Nothing but hatred. More so than I had ever seen. Penumbra cried out to me, a gurgling sound, and forced herself to roll over. She reached out to me, all bloody and beaten up._

**"_Uriel! Uriel, run! Don't let him get you! I already lost one child, I will not let another be doomed to the same fate! RUN, child, GO!"_**

_I have never been more terrified, I was frozen in place. Absolom, as mother called him, grabbed me up by my throat and backhanded me across the face. For the first time in my life, I felt my face sing in pain. Mother screamed and lashed out at him, flinging sharp shards of ice from her fingertips and into his face. They cut him up pretty good. Before the dark, hulking figure before me could get a decent hold of me, I fled. He did, however, tear a handful of feathers from the nodes of my wings. Lord, that hurt. Still, I fled, and found Azreal along the way. He told me he sensed trouble, and at the sight of my face, I saw he was worried._

_He asked me what had happened, but I could not bring myself to speak past the sobbing. He looked toward the screams, dashed toward them, and was gone. I could not see him nor hear him. I did however, hear some yelling between him and the opposing party. It only went on a for a few seconds until silence fell upon the party. I remember holding my breath, listening intently for more arguing to surface, or anything for that matter. I was scared that Azreal might have been killed._

_Then, Azreal came dashing toward me, scooped me up, and took to the skies. He shouted for me not to open my eyes, for the demon was coming for him. Mother was trying to do something, but something told me that she was already gone. I knew already that she was dead. I clawed out in the direction of her screams, trying to get Azreal to turn around, trying to convince him we could save her. But he never did. He never even looked back._

_I felt his sobbing, both against my own body and against my forehead. Tears fell from his eyes like that of a waterfall. As did mine. I mean, I did loose the only thing I ever had that came as close as possible to a mother. No other had the privilege of having a mother figure; a woman who loved them unconditionally and was always within an arms reach in case they ever needed someone to love. No other angel had that. No other angel had her love like Azreal and I did._

_I was never the same after that. I grew colder, more distant. Gone were the days I would greet my brothers with a tender embrace. I was too hurt for the embrace of another. I recall being more angry afterwards. I suppose it was because I witnessed the death of the most beloved person in my life, and was utterly helpless to do anything about it. After her death, I was feeling it even more. Because I felt like I was alone._

_I was alone, save Azreal, but in my haze of rage, I shut him out completely._

_A few centuries after her death, my brothers and I were called before our lord Aboddon to travel with him on a sentry mission to a foreign world. At this time, I hated Aboddon. Hated him for the way he spoke about my mother. He called her a mistake. A waste of life if he had ever seen one. Her Exaltion made her a freak, and the whole of Heaven was more than eager to have her gone. For these things, I hated him. Still, i had no place or right to decline this mission. I went, accompanied by my other young companions and Aboddon himself._

_That was when I first arrived on Shaurna, the World of Endless Rains._

_I remember everything about this place, from the dragons, to the bitter forests, to the beautiful flowers and gardens of the place. I recall marveling at the huge shape of the Ebon Temple in the foreground of our landing point. It was unimaginably tall, taller than any structure I had ever seen in the White City. I wanted so badly to go there, but Aboddon forbade it. I knew not why I was drawn to that place so, but I know now that it was because my patron was calling me. He found me wanting._

_On act of impulse, which I shall have you know I do **not** regret, I went, unbeknownst to Aboddon, and sneaked myself into the temple. I didn't want to be around him, anyways. I would always wander off when I wanted to think. Aboddon disliked that of me, but always refused to detest me openly. After all, I was his strongest amongst the children. He refused to let me be._

_When I entered the temple, I remember feeling welcomed. There were dragons running around all over the place, but when the approached, they came unafraid to me. I thought them cute, and figured They would try and nibble at me to discover what I was. An angel in their midst? Surely they knew not what I was, and were curiously attempting to piece together what they knew with what I was. I thought them cute. They thought me interesting. I can now say the same for them. Although it is because of these dragons that I had a subconscious phobia of them after I... I forgot them all._

_I followed some invisible indication or sign down the long corridors and sweeps of stairs to a place the monster himself resided. When I first encountered the huge dragon, wallowing in a pool big enough to pass as one of the coy ponds in the White City, I thought I was seeing things. His scales were of an inky black. There was nothing but the blackness of His shiny scales, and the brightness of His intense, icy blue eyes. They terrified me. He terrified me._

_The Ebon Dragon was like that of a nightmare. It was taller than any sized dragon I could ever to have hoped to see in the whole of my life. Bigger than even Aboddon's draconic form. The serpentine coils it made in the pool of waters looked to be thicker than brick walls, and stronger, too. And He was looking right at me. My eyes followed the creatures form from the floor to His eyes, which the moment I saw them, I squealed and made an attempt to exit. _

_Behind me, Aboddon came running, scolding me. My brothers and sisters followed. I screamed at them to run, but before I managed to leave the ground to fly away, I was swallowed by blackness. Literally. The only way the Ebon Dragon could think to stop me was by shutting me in His mouth. Smart. Real smart._

_It was after that I thought I was drowning. The Ebon Dragon spit me up into his pool and held me under with his snout. At first, I was terrified. I had never had an experience with water before. Being an angel, I tried to keep my wings as well maintained as I possibly could, and never got them wet, not even in the rain. The horror of not being able to draw a breath overwhelmed me, but then I started hearing a voice. His voice. The dragon was speaking to me. He said no words, but I felt the words in my head, as I do now. They painted a picture, said I was going to be okay, so long as I just breathed. I would see my mother again if I just breathed. __He promised me Penumbra, so without further fight, I breathed the water in._

_And then Everything went white. I felt something tightening in my chest, a new kind of pain, but something else there, too. Power. Peace. Clarity. _

_After that, is where the rest of my memories began. I remembered waking up in the White City, with Gabriel, Michael, Aboddon, and Raphael. They all looked so shocked to see me alive. They asked me what I remembered, and I said nothing. They smiled real huge, especially Aboddon. Some of the younger healers were overcome by tears when I said I remembered nothing. Those smiles were bad, though. And I knew it then. They were not smiles at my safety. They were all smiling because I was not a freak anymore. I was no longer Exalted. I have no clue how it was done, but Gabriel erased my memory, and Raphael removed my HeartStone. I was no longer Exalted. Without memory of the power, I was without it. I was a failed attempt. I was just Uriel now, and more importantly, I was a do-over._

_After I lost my memory, Aboddon ordered the removal of the memory from all of my brothers and sisters present at my Exaltion. They remembered nothing. I was reminded of a lost love by Aboddon, who then took me on as his top apprentice. All I was left with was a hatred for Hell, and a mentor who cared for me very much, now that I was no longer a freak. Later on, I came to have... feelings for him. I regret that all now.l I regret everything now. What they all did was wrong, and I don't think I can ever come to forgive them all ever again. Not after what I lost. Not after what I have been through..._

_Not after what I will go through..._

* * *

><p>When Lima saw Uriel ascend up the stairs from behind her, she was grateful to see that she was alright, given the current chaos then ensued upstairs. She was stationed at the entrance to the Exaltion chambers to make sure no one would be tempted to go down there and snoop around. She didn't even nap. Sabrina ordered her to stay put there, no matter what, and to not come out until Uriel emerged. But when Lima saw... the rest of the angel, one could say she looked nervous.<p>

A naked Hellguard was the _last_ thing the Phantom Griever expected to see. Not that she didn't like what she saw.

Unable to help herself, Lima stared down the length of the angel as she made her way up the stairs, watching the sway of her hips and shoulders. Uriel was more attractive than she thought earlier. She liked the sudden streaks of black across the angel's silver hairline. They were a delightful contrast against her thick, white mane of hair. She noticed at last, that Uriel's eyes had changed as well. Rather than glowing golden, they were a sharp icy blue, holding thin pupils. They made her look all the more menacing. They added to her natural beauty. Or so Lima thought.

"Looking good, Ebon Sai," Lima said as Uriel stepped over the last black marble step. "Here, cover yourself."

Uriel grinned and caught the jade green drape as Lima tossed it over to her. "Thanks. I feel much better. More calm. More clear."

"More shiny," Lima laughed, poking a claw at Uriel's HeartStone. The rhombus shaped rock tinked loudly at the impact, like a mail hitting glass. "No need for any fancy jewels to garnish this bosom, eh?"

"Oh, heavens, no!" The angel laughed. "No jewels, that isn't how I go about things!" She tied the drape over her breasts and once more around her waist so to allow more freedom of movement. She looked regal, despite being dripping wet and without shoes. She possessed an exotic beauty. Nothing like that of any other angel possessed. She was different. Uriel was the kind of creature that would look regal and captivating no matter what she wore, or how she looked period. She looked to always be focused on some otherworldly task, making her look as though she was always contemplating. Thinking. Calculating.

Uriel was not just beautiful, she was astounding.

Lima never found herself thinking so highly of an angel. She scolded herself for thinking such thoughts about the angel when she first encountered her, but now, now that she was a Sai, Lima assumed that she was above her pitiful Codex, as well as everything that went with it. She thought of her even more so as of now, especially when she saw Uriel giving her that private smile of hers.

Lima looked away from her eyes despondently, but only found herself looking there again when Uriel cleared her throat and clasped her forearm. The demoness flinched, an anticipated reaction by an Ebon Sai. Lima blinked suddenly when Uriel's hand trailed down her arm to her gloved wrist. At last, Uriel spoke, "Something has happened, hasn't it? Aren't you going to tell em?"

Lima shook her head, as if to dispel her thoughts on this beautiful angel. "Ah, yes. Forgive me, Ebon Sai. A Shadow Wielder has arrived at the temple. She cannot come down here, your Sai Sister placed a shield on the entrance to this cavern so not to let her come and interfere with the Exaltion process."

"How many casualties? Do you know?"

"No, Ebon Sai," Lima said, ashamed as it sounded. "I don't know anything else other than what I have been told."

Silver brows puckered together. "And Sabrina told you herself? Just now?"

"No. I think she was in my mind. I know I heard a voice, but no one was there. Only I was present."

Uriel wiped her palms on her hips and ran her tongue across her teeth. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. She tried to focus her mind. Focus on the problem, find a solution as quickly as possible, before things got too out of control.

"Lima," the angel spoke, staring through the Phantom Griever's arresting magenta eyes deep into her mind. "I Appoint you as my Guardian. I am going to go back up to the anteroom and take you somewhere. There is an Island a few miles from this place that holds a beacon. If I can get to that beacon, I can summon my master. I can't face the Shadows on my own. I have no power too, not unless I want to destroy this world completely."

Lima's eyebrows scrunched together. As Uriel started on her way, Lima's arm shot out in front of her. The demon almost found herself blushing when the angel's chest impacted against her arm. "Now, hold on. I know this must be done, but there has to be another way. Another way out of here. I have a very bad feeling about this, Uriel."

"Lima, please. Just let this-"

"No," The demon's voice thundered accidentally out at the angel's retort. The look Uriel was giving her made her blood chill in her veins. "Uriel, I'm sorry. But as your Guardian, listen to me: there has to be another way out of here. Another way to this Island. Please, consider this for me. Is there any other way out of this temple that doesn't require leaving the lower floors?"

Uriel breathed a laugh. She didn't know this place all that well, but she had a feeling that she should heed her Guardian's advice. Perhaps there was another way. As she walked past the scowling demoness, she planted a tiny kiss on her rough, slate-blue cheek. As her guardian, she was to ensure that she was safe at all costs, both from common threats and Primordial dangers alike. Knowing a mortal demon like Lima would stand no chance against a Primordial force, but it was the thought that counted here. A guardian was one's eternal companion. through thick and thin, they were supposed to be there to help their Exalted other, as well as love and glorify them. Now, Uriel needed her Guardian to talk some sense into her reckless self.

"Yes, Lima. You're right. I think there is a way out of here, but you might not like it." The angel admitted at last.

"I don't care. Show me. We go from there."

* * *

><p>Lime regretted everything. Everything. She almost wished she hadn't convinced Uriel that there had to be another way to escape. A way that didn't involve an ocean.<p>

In the Exaltion chamber, there was a secret passageway that led completely underneath the temple, and went on for miles. _Miles. _That tunneling system led to yet another tunnel, made entirely out of glass, that must have need a good twenty leagues under the sea. Lima hated the ocean. She didn't even know this world had an ocean. Then again, where else would all that rain go?

Up in front of her, Uriel glanced around the hall. She looked to be smiling. Smiling?! Mother of God, what could possibly be worth smiling about in here?! They were surrounded by a damn ocean! That was the most horrible thing Lima could have ever imagined! The thought of what might be lurking in these waters made Lima sick to her stomach. The fact she could not hear or see anything that may be coming, on top of the fact that she hated water... she wanted to drop dead right then and there.

"Something amiss, Lima?" Uriel's voice sung through the glass tunnel. It made Lima jump. "You don't look well."

"I'm fine, Ebon Sai," Lima stuttered. "Do not worry yourself."

That was a lie. Uriel knew how troubled Lima might be, since her thoughts were screaming at her to just turn around and get back to what she could assume was dry land. She could do nothing to stop it, though. Then again, she might just be able to convince Lima that this was not as bad as she thought. Perhaps if she was to see something soothing...

"Oh, look, Lima! Whales!" Uriel exclaimed and pointed out into the ocean. The sound of Uriel's sudden tone made Lima jump.

Indeed, there were whales out there in the open water, although the magnificent blue of their skin would make them almost impossible to see. They seemed to be larger than life, to Lima. A demoness born and raised in Sophia, never seen the ocean, or creatures like whales, or any oceanic creatures for that matter. Now, she was rather impressed with what she saw. Whales were an extraordinary example of grace and power. Their massive bodies thrusted themselves against the currents vehemently, and made it look so simple. Perhaps it was their size, Lima thought, that made them so powerful. That could be the only way they could move so freely.

For a moment, the two women stood silently in the glass corridor, listening to the hums and wails of the beasts as they swam closer and closer, looking to hover over the tunnel itself. When they did, it was Lima who stared, awestruck by the spectacle. she almost forgot how terrified she was of the water. In the silence, Uriel heard the whispering wonder of Lima's collective thoughts. How she studied the creature. It was like the demoness was pulling every possible detail she could out of the magnificent beast before it phased back into the blue waters. There were other thoughts there, too. Lingering remnants of beholding and studying the angel. Now, those thoughts of taking beauty and grace were all jumbled, and comparisons were being made.

"Lima," Uriel's voice spoke softly, so not to speak over the songs of the whales. "Lima, you're getting a little misty, aren't you?"

The demon blinked, hurriedly wiping a budding tear from the corner of her left eye. "No. I was just-"

"Lima," Uriel laughed. "I think it's appropriate. I feel I may shed a tear as well. You aren't alone, here."

Lima scratched her freckled nose. She tried to make herself seem disinterested in Uriel consolation, as well as her compassion. She didn't answer right away.

"Uriel, are you in my mind?"

"How did you know?"

"I... I don't feel alone in there."

Uriel put a hand on Lima's shoulder and walked along with her. "Lima, I pick up a few things here and there, since you think very loudly, and I couldn't help but overhear some of your... personal thoughts about me," the angel smiled and looked to the ground, sheepishly as it seemed. "They're quite flattering."

Lima felt like her cheeks would burst. She knew she was blushing, but there was no point in trying to stop herself. That would only make things worse. Hell, even her ears were red.

"I didn't ask to... start in on you, or anything. I just meant, well, I know how badly you want to live your life your way. That's why you left the Dark One and decided to serve the Phoenix. I was just thinking... I do too. I want to live my life my way. I dread the idea of being controlled for the rest of my existence. I dread a lot of things I have done, and I want to be certain that I can only do right after this." Uriel mused quietly, as if she were speaking to herself.

"I know how troubled you must be, Lima, and you can do almost nothing to stop it, as can I, but have faith. Your words, as well as the efforts of all around us help those healing from our last tragedy to have hope."

Lima snorted a laugh, still trying to dilute her affections for the angel next to her. "A healer's best aid, our words. Most of the time, it's all we can do to help. Most people assume being a healer means healing people. That actually happens rarely. I learned a long time ago that being a healer means living with the pain and suffering."

"How so?"

Lima's magenta eyes searched the icy blue ones while she walked. "I do what I can as a healer, and more so as a Phantom Griever. For most of my kind, to cure an ailment requires more pain to be inflicted in order to reduce the true severity of their afflictions or ailments."

"I understand how that works. I broke my nodes once. Had to get them reset by hand, they were so out of place. I hurt like hell." Uriel giggled.

"Precisely. If it didn't hurt the way it did, you might not have ever flown again."

The angel smiled. "Well, for a Phantom Griever, you possess a heart that any angelic healer would be envious over. I see that more so now than ever."

Uriel remembered seeing a vision of things happening in the temple while she was in her sleep, a vision of Lima in Karma's room, tending to her while she was sick. Lima was putting herbs in pots, smoking things throughout the child's room, making teas, and ordering other younger healers to go and bring more herbs. She saw Lima pluck a cloth from a basin of cold rainwater, wring it out, and lay it flat across the little Proxie's forehead. Lima rubbed her silver curls away from her sweaty forehead.

_"How does that feel, dear?"_

Karma only managed a weak smile and a nod. Hopefully, the child was recuperating well.

Uriel remembered seeing War in that room, too. Lima continued telling he should leave, for his own good, but the Horseman could not be swayed. Uriel didn't blame him. After all, that was his youngest and only daughter. He never left, not even when Death asked for him. He just offered his presence as a comfort to the little Proxie. Poor old man.

"You could be a healer," Lima said, snatching the angel away from her brooding. "You have a kind touch."

"Defending is the only thing I know how to do. I could never heal anyone."

Lima leaned close. "And do you think I could? A Phantom Griever, healing others and doing good?"

Uriel glanced around the hall. "I see what you mean. But at least you've devoted your life to helping people, now. No more devil to watch out for. My life has, and always will be, devoted to fighting."

"As has mine. I fight now for freedom. For peace. So can live my life how I want to live it." The demoness smiled out of the corner of her mouth. "In the end, we are all warriors. My duty is to hurt others to save the few I can. It is up to people like you and me to heal those remaining after we've finished fighting."

Uriel understood what she meant by that. She understood very clearly. She recalled her youth, Azreal saying something like that to her when she was first leaving Lostlight to train with Aboddon. Uriel longed for his voice, now that she remembered who he was to her. All of those emotions and affections came swirling and spinning about her in a fluid flux of warm fury. She missed him so much all of the sudden.

"I guess you have a good point," Uriel whispered. "I remember everything about myself, you know. And I want to change a few things about myself. All my life, I have done nothing but what I am told. Now, I want to do things differently. Starting with you."

Together in the silence of the hall, Lima froze and watched Uriel walk on by. She ha completely lost track of how long they had been walking. Lima swallowed the wetness in her mouth and clenched her trembling hands into fists. "I... You will. You just may turn the tides on this war. You will be better, you'll see... And, I'm always here for you..."

When she said that, she dragged her nails along the bones of her leather. She knew Uriel had stopped to face her, but didn't want to look her in the face. She didn't want to face the scrutiny of those celestial eyes, even if they were the eyes of an Ebon Sai. They would still see her as a demon, not a fellow Protector, not as Guardian. Lima was like a clod of dirt compared to Uriel. She would never be anything compared to this beautiful, upstanding, intelligent woman. Lima suddenly felt very inferior.

When the demon finally mustered the courage to look the angel in the eye, the thin slits of her pupils opened the slightest bit. She was smiling at her. Was the Ebon Sai suddenly displeased with her? Dammnit all! If only Lima could keep her trap shut! Alas, that was not the case. The angel that was once repulsed by the mere mention of demons was now smiling. Uriel now saw past the demonic exterior, to see something much more valuable: her decent soul. She could see the full content of her character, and the perfume about Lima was similar to that of her own. Compassion. Patience. Love.

"I suppose you and I just need a little more time to adapt to things. Like the fact I don't hate you."

Lima turned and scratched her shoulder. "Alright, I get it. I can't help but worry that I'll dissapoint you. I have never been trusted with the task of acting as one's companion. No less their Guardian."

"I know," Uriel gently brushed some of the short, caramel hair behind Lima's ear. She felt a familiar satisfaction flutter around her insides. Lima endured it.

"Do you really love me, Lima?"

The demoness cleared her throat. "As I have said before, you are loved by all of us. As far as I am concerned, I can only hope to act as an appropriate Guardian and tag along for the ride."

When Lima started walking again, Uriel reached down and threaded her fingers with the other. Warm leather pressed against the angel's palm. It felt kind of sweaty, but Uriel expected as much. Her smile broadened when she felt that sweaty palm press back.

"I love you, too. Now, let's get going. We have an Akuma to kill..."


	26. Scorpio

In the still, heavy air, War felt very uneasy. He knew that feeling of being followed, and that of being surrounded, but now, he was feeling both. Something was watching him, inching closer and closer, just out of eyeshot. He could feel the eyes watching him from all around. Where the Shadows weren't, there was a massive mass of burning red flames. Phoenix Fire, no doubt. War could tell by the way the Shadows shrieked and sizzled that it was putting up a fight. A fight to survive. To continue spreading. To contaminate others and cause more pain.

War regretted leaving Karma alone in the walls, but he figured there she would not be seen or heard. He would go back for her. He was certain she would be safe. She would possibly fall asleep, given she was so sick. He would go back for her. She would be just fine, he knew it.

Now that he thought more of it, he wasn't sure what the nightmare he had previously meant. Karma was killed, the Akuma escaped, and Eris was there, in the Kingdom of the Dead, no less, and killed him. The Akuma had said something about letting his anger cloud his judgement, but he was unaware of what that meant as well. He wasn't all that angry, save the fact that some damn Shadow Wielder was running amok, killing people and causing a huge rift in the balance of this world. Okay, now that he thought of things that way, he did start getting angry. But that didn't answer his question: Why would the Akuma say a thing like that?

With a start, he realized what she meant. He was angry, and so he made a horrendously poor decision. Because he was so disgruntled, he hastily decided to leave her in the walls, where surely the dust and stale air would make her even more sick, thus giving her away completely. How could he be so stupid! What was he thinking, really? What was he planning to do? Deal with the Shadow Wielder herself?! He could never match a Primordial powered foe! As much as he would like to boast, his power was no match for a force he knew nearly nothing about. And now, here he stood in the blackened hallway, staring dumbly out at nothing in front of him.

With a shout of rage, mostly at himself, War spun on his heels and bolted back toward the stairs. There was enough time for him to escape with her, if he was to be quick about it. That normally meant make your own doors, in War's case, but this was a place of an Ebon Sai. Destruction might not be the best idea. Than again, the Shadows were eating this place alive, so... Why not?

That in mind, War wasted no time in hurling himself up the winding staircase, plunging his formally sheathed Chaoseater into the marble wall. The split-tongued shape of Chaoseater's tip penetrated the wall easily, and, seemingly on it's own accord, twisted itself about, gouging a huge hole in the fine walls. War swept the rubble aside and shoved the small metal hatch open.

"Karma! Karma, get out now! Where are you?!" the Horseman called over the hiss of flames and shrieking black and red ooze that dripped from the surrounding walls. War was careful not to touch it. He called her again and received no answer. Not even a cough.

He tried not to panic, lest he loose focus. Again, he was enraged. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! You said you would keep her safe! And look what you've done? Great job, War. You truly are a grand father figure._ Again, he called the little Proxie's name, and again, there was nothing. He couldn't stand here and wait forever. The Horseman moved on without her. She was probably hiding someplace else. She had to be. After all, it wasn't like the Shadow Wielders could see through walls, could they?

"Karma!" War called out again. "Karma, where are you! Answer me!"

War shouldered his way through fallen debris and shoved broken columns and statues aside like they were nothing. To him, they were just that. Nothing was going to keep him away from his child, not if he had anything to do about it.

As of now, War was silently appreciating the fact that Karma was so good at hiding herself. If not for this, she might have been found already. He was kind of proud that she was such a Jill of all trades, much as he was. Considering he hadn't found any trace of her, other than her dainty little slippers, he surmised she was a skilled escape artist. Since she was running around barefoot, that made her considerably harder to track. She was clever. Too clever, War already knew that much. Still, he wished she wasn't so clever right now. He was beyond worried.

He called again as he made his way down the stairs again and through a hallway gated and swallowed by red flames. It was hot. Even for him. It was so hot, in fact, that War found himself having trouble to draw a breath. He was used to the roaring fires of Hell that scorched for eons without end, but Phoenix Fire was another story. It stung his eyes, and burned his cheeks. Over the course of a mere minute, he had cursed several times over being unexpectedly burned. When he looked, he could have sworn the burns were making him orange. Phoenix Fire was a strange and dangerous thing...

War shouldered past dozens of corpses and half-eaten angels before he encountered Sabrina, attempting to find an escape route with Luke, Ignatius, and Pius. When he saw her, he felt those hot claws of jealousy rake through his stomach, almost literally. How he despised her. Such a young thing, attractive, yes, but unworthy of his eldest brother's affections. Honestly, War found himself hating her more than anything this day and age. Not just hate, but raw jealousy.

"War!" the smoky voice called over to him. "Be careful, you have to leave now! Fury is already dead, and Strife is-"

War openly guffawed. "Fury? Dead? I doubt that very seriously."

Icy blue eyes caught fire and ignited itself through War's being. In the heat of all the fire, an icy chill ran down his spine. "She is dead, Horseman. Go back the way we came and see for yourself. But I highly suggest you attempt to find Strife and leave here while you have the chance. I am searching for Death and making a departure."

"To where? Where can you hope to hide from all this?" War asked as he threw both of his arms out to his sides, gesturing at the chaotic darkness that spewed and crept all around. He didn't even try to hide the snarky tone of his voice when speaking to her. He never did.

"I am off to the Kingdom of the Dead. The only place close to this world where I can channel my powers directly and not have to be slowed down by the lack of Primordial laylines connected to that particular planet. I highly suggest you find your brothers and come with us."

"No. I'm looking for someone."

"Your Proxie?" Her cold voice regarded the Horsemen coolly.

"Have you seen her?"

"No. But I think I saw the Akuma heading back the way you just came from... You don't suppose-"

War's breath suddenly caught itself in his throat. There was no possible way the Akuma could have found her so quickly. War was sure that Karma would have been safe in the walls, hidden from everything and everyone. That obscurity he granted his child, if only for a few moments, would have given her much more time to try and escape. A secret passageway, there had to be one. War suddenly recalled how sick Karma was. No child would have been quiet enough in her state to go unnoticed. One cough, that was all it would take, War knew that much. She might have moved, but then again, she might not have. She was so ill...

War suddenly felt very stupid.

"No! She's fine. I know it. She is strong. She found a way to escape the temple, I know she did." War argued, trying to make himself seem like he wasn't the least bit worried. The last thing he wanted was a lecture from that insolent woman on how he was such a horrid liar. "I am looking for her now. If you happen to find her, tell her to go off to the Forge Lands. She will be safe there. Whatever you do, do not let her go to the Kingdom of the Dead. No matter what." With nothing left to say to that wench, War stomped away, shouldering Ignatius out of his way.

* * *

><p>Coughing, Karma stuffed her face into the bundle of her own dress gathered up in her fists in front of her. She must not be seen, nor must she draw any attention to herself. The Shadows sensed fear, and if for one moment she got spooked, it was over. That, and she knew if she was to make a sound, the Akuma would find her and kill her. Shadow Wielders dew power from the souls they collect. More souls just added fuel to their dark power. Exalted souls were even more powerful. The last thing Karma wanted was to be snatched up by a Shadow Wielder and killed for her powers. She wasn't supposed to fail, not yet, anyways.<p>

What little light she had looked like it was teeming with fairy dust. No, it was just dust. It made her breathing so much harder, made her cough and sneeze more and more. She needn't get scared, though. She was to be strong and brave, just like her father. Atrocor and Zodiac had made her promise to be strong, so that she might live again. That, and she would be strong for War. She didn't want to disappoint him. She didn't want him to think her weak. She wanted to please him, despite her illness, she wanted to make him pleased with her.

Karma tucked her curls back behind her ears and continued tor crawl along the floor. She felt dizzy, and wanted more than anything to lie down, but there was no time for that. Shadows could see all, no matter where they hid. If she could just get out of this wall and find a way out to the Forge Lands, she might be able to open a Serpent Hole there to get to Discord and request help. But she was so sick...

No! She was a Proxie Magnda! There was no way she was going to let a little demon-flu get the better of her! She had Nephilim in her! The strongest blood there was! She could do this! She could find a way home and save the day! Karma felt a little bit better with that idea in mind. She would make her father so proud of her! Maybe, he would congratulate her! Oh, how the thought of such a reward made her heart flutter!

Another section of hallowed out walls. There was another door leading out to another corridor! Just what she wanted! Now, she had a way out! Like War, she threw her forearm up against the wall in an attempt to force it open. No use. _If only I were strong enough... _She crawled a few paces back and rolled over onto her back, stomping a boot against the wall instead. That worked a lot better. It managed to loosen up the slate in the wall. When she slid it over and peeked outside, everything seemed clear. No Shadows, no fires, no Shadow Wielder. The coast was perfectly clear. _I mist be on the other side of the temple! Wonderful, that means the exit is only a short distance away! I can make this work! Oh, father will be so proud of me! I just know it! I will please him so much! _She thought to herself as she crawled out onto the cod marble floor.

She wheezed another cough into the crook of her arm and then made her way down the hall. She mustn't run, for that would draw attention, but she mustn't dilly-dally either. If she hurried, maybe she would have just enough energy to open the serpent hole and go for help. But right now, she was tired. So very, very tired. As she walked, the hallway stretched further and further, and the space spun and rolled and tilted. Her vision was foggy, her body was frigid, her arms and legs numb, and when she looked, she saw that her fingers were turning purple. How dreadful this was, drawing such a fatal illness. She never should have stolen from that demon huntress.

She was correct, though. The exit was only a short walk away, and she made it outside just fine. From the sounds of it, everyone else in the temple (who hadn't already been killed,) were on the other side of the property. Sure;y, the Shadow Wielder would follow the sounds of their screams. She was safe and sound! Heavens, this was great! She could go and get help, now! Off to the Forge Lands, then off to Discord! This was working out perfectly!

But she was tired. So, so tired.

To her left, about a few meters away from the main trail of gravel that lead to the front entrance of the temple was a huge Cyprus tree. Its gnarled roots held a small, comfortable looking nook, filled with soft moss and blue lilies along the outside. It was pretty, and looked like the perfect place to rest her aching body.

Karma pulled her cloak tight around her head and wobbled over to the tree, crawling inside. She moved to the very back of it, so not to be seen by any dragons. She curled up into a little ball, and pulled the cloak up around her. She would rest here for a little bit, and then go and get help from Mother. This was a great plan! She would make father so proud... So very... very... proud...

* * *

><p>Firstly, it was the stench that caught him. War had smelled blood and decay before, but this was different. More pungent. More earthy. More horrid. He found himself gagging upon the smell's impact. Secondly, it was the dark blood that caught him off guard. Angel's blood was a more somber red, rather than rust, and demon blood was darker than rust. Last of all, and certainly not the last, was the body.<p>

Unruly violet locks splayed out across the floor all around her head. Black and red ooze spewed from her face from a gaping hole where her cheek once was. War was able to make out some gum and teeth. Wide eyes stared vacantly out at nothingness, and the whiteness of her eyes left War to his imagination at what direction she was staring at. Streaks of red caked over her neck and ears, more so over her eyes, and her mouth hung open in a shocked, painful cry. A cry for help, War surmised.

But her body... He just stood there and stared at her body, unable to process anything as quickly as he normally did.

Whatever had happened, it was now eating her flesh from the inside out. Her tissues were deteriorating, being eaten away by the Shadows, feeding off of her life essence. Feeding off of her flesh. Like a Nephilim mother's child would have done.

War wanted to drag her body away from the force, to cease their feeding and to salvage what little of his older sister that he could, but he knew that he must not touch her. She was infected. To so mach as tough someone with the Shadows meant certain possession, therefore, death. But still... He wanted to move her.

Not to far away, he saw more of his fellow Nephilim. They were all a mess. Fury must have killed them all. The worst sight for him, though, was Ergo. Her body was still very much intact, luckily, but her entire midsection was torn to shreds. It looked as though someone was trying to remover her uterus. She was disemboweled completely, there was nothing there, save her lungs. Her once cream colored scales were now a cold greyish-blue, and her magenta eyes were pale and glazed over. Motherly eyes. His mother's eyes.

Why wasn't he cursing, War suddenly wondered. He should be thrown into a fit of rage. His sister was dead and currently being eaten alive, his mother was murdered by his sister, as well as his other brothers and sisters. They had all been mutilated, and Fury was taken by the Shadows and killed. Or... no, that's not what happened. She was taken first, War surmised. She would nave had attacked them unprovoked, especially Ergo or Kolo. She loved them both so much. Fury must have been possessed first, and then slaughtered her brethren. That was the only option that seemed feasible. That was the only option that seemed like Fury.

Sabrina was right. She was dead. It was a disorienting sight, War's beautiful older sister lying in a pool of her own blood, being eaten by a bloody Primordial parasite. She looked so helpless. So useless. It was... depressing.

War couldn't look any longer. He began to fear the worst was happening to his brothers. He broke out into a run, without even realizing it and tried to find an exit. He was furious, and at the same time, he was terrified. This was a Primordial force he was trying to hide from. More powerful and dangerous than anything he had ever even conceived of. It had taken his sister. He was lost in a temple he hardly knew his way around. His daughter was lost in here somewhere. He was powerless in a situation he would have figure out in only minutes a any other given time. His mind was a scramble of all sorts of thoughts and theories, objectives, frustrations, anxieties, possible solutions, but he couldn't manage to figure anything out.

He realized, after running around in circles through the same bloody corridors, that this is what terror felt like.

The youngest Horseman skidded to a halt and let out a shout of rage. He was literally running around in circles! This place was driving him mad. He was lost, and he knew that the darkness was closing in on him. In the walls, he started to see things, hearing voices. He knew, though, that he shouldn't be hearing voices. He never heard things that weren't there. He wasn't crazy. He was perfectly sane. (or so he thought...)

And then he looked at his hand.

The palm of his hand was pitch black. It stung. The veins in his hand and arm blackened as well, sending little prickles of energy up his arm and into his shoulders. All he could do of course was stare, but he figured he should be trying to do something, at least. Anything. Getting angry, trying to cut off his arm again, anything. But he was frozen.

_**Serve us, Horsemen.**_

Bright blue eyes stared in shock as the rest of his arm blackened. Sweat pooled and dropped from his brow. His heart hammered in his chest.

**_Serve us, Horseman._**

Shakily. _"No~"_

**_Serve us._**

For a fleeting moment, War heard Karma's voice speaking. That sweet lisp, reminding him: _"Don't fight it, father. You will die. Just let it happen."_

**_Serve us, Horseman. You will be rewarded handsomely._**

_This isn't happening... This isn't happening... No, it can't be happening... Who will save her? Who will protect her?_

**_Serve us, War._**

**_Serve us._**

**_Serve us._**

**_Serve us._**

* * *

><p>Lilith nearly jumped out of her skin when the demoness on the other side of the huge iron doors started screaming, "Get out! All of you! Out now!"<p>

Six other demonesses, servants, dressed all in their pretty serving dresses, burst out of the room, squealing and shrieking for their little lives. Poor things. The Demon Queen had to side-step out of their ways, and when one happened to bump into her, she cursed and apologized furiously for her mistake. Lilith merely waved her off and dismissed her with a calm touch to the young girl's pale green cheeks. Still, she knew little provoked Abrigor more than delay. A little pester on Lilith's behalf would do her no good, still, she loved to tease this little... Firefly.

Taking it upon herself, Lilith entered the pitch black room. It stank. Like stale air, ancient upholstery, and decaying bodies. It came unpleasant to the Demon Queen. Lilith frowned. Ever since this little brat came into power, she thought she could just do whatever she wanted. Hell, even when Abrigor was a nobody, she carried herself like she was Queen of the World. That was a frowned upon behavior for someone so young and inexperienced. Even if Lucifer had found favor in her.

Still, the room was empty, save Lilith and Abrigor. She relished that quiet for a moment. The presence of this child meant little to her, but the quiet surrounding her was a luxury that Lilith had come to enjoy. Even if it was selfish. In her chamber, the noises and moans of her pets pressed close around. Here, it was quiet.

She walked further into the dark room. Abrigor was just inside, watching her, like a leather-bound, fiery serpent coiled and ready to strike. Lilith strode directly up to her, a smile of her dark lips. "You requested my audience, little one?"

Lilith felt a stunning pain as the back of Abrigor's black fist whipped across her face. The blow spun her around. Her knees hit the stone floor.

Lilith spat some dark blood. "How _dare_ you-"

She was yanked up by a handful of her black hair. The second time, she slammed into the wall before she hit the ground. She hardly saw the second blow coming! Stupefying pain throbbed through her face and back. When she gained her composure, she got her legs under her again and stood before Abrigor. She was _livid_ with rage. And for a third time, she took a candelabrum with her. Candles fell and rolled across the floor. Glass shattered as Abrigor screamed at her.

"My master wishes an audience with you, and you entered my chamber uninvited! I did not call you in here! You just brought it upon yourself to walk in here like you own the place!"

Lilith was dizzy and stunned. Her vision was faltering. Her eyes felt like they would have exploded. Her jaw felt shattered and her neck muscles felt as if they had been shredded. Lilith lay on the stone floor, wallowing in the strange sensations Abrigor's violent attack delivered. That, and she tried to figure out why her voice sounded so distorted.

She raised her head a little, only a little, and saw black boots covered in blood and bits of matted flesh. Abrigor sneered down at the Demon Queen. She was beyond unhappy.

"I called you here to show you something, but instead of being grateful, as I had hoped you would be, you just prance into my lair and speak to me, when I haven't even invited you inside?!" Abrigor shouted. "Dispicable~"

Lilith propped herself up onto her elbow. Her face stung. She could feel hot blood pouring from her nose and over her lips, drops hanging from her chin. It tickled, so she angrily brushed them away. "My apologies, young Abrigor. But what makes you think you have the right to attack me? The Queen of Hell?"

Laughter. That's what Lilith heard next. But it wasn't Abrigor. There was someone else. A horribly distorted a deep voice, yet feminine. Lilith had never heard such a voice in all of her life. It was, frightening to say the least. It was only when it spoke her name that the Demon Queen got chills.

**_"Lilith of Hell? Te Mersi? The last time anyone regarded you as anything resembling a royal status was when that young servant crashed into you. You're pathetic, you know that? If only you could be more like my young apprentice, here. You see, she is worth something. You on the other hand, well... You're only good for one thing~"_**

That laughter... That voice... It couldn't be. It just couldn't. Lilith had heard Lucifer speaking to Abrigor about her use of the "Shadow Matter," but she had assumed that he meant something else entirely. Shadow Matter didn't exist. _Couldn't _exist. The very idea would have once gotten anyone immediate execution. The Queen suddenly felt her mouth go dry.

Fotis was speaking through Abrigor.

"...Why?"

**_"Why do you think, idiot whore? You have seen her, haven't you? My dear niece, the Phoenix?" _**Fotis hissed a breath. **_"You thought her a Trickster, didn't you?_** **_"_**

"I-"

**_"Stupid. Unbelievably stupid. Then again, what did I expect? You were always useless... Even after you lost everything..."_**

"My life was _taken _from me! And even after that, I still managed to-"

**_"You dare raise your voice against me, wench?!" _**Fotis shouted, sending Lilith flying toward the stone wall yet again. **_"You've no right! Do you know who I am, child?! I am the champion of Darkness! I invented every contemptible, vile scheme you have conceived of, and I still am _****_fluent in ways far worse! You think you know torture?! I could have sucked the essence from your soul before you even realized what was happening! You could be Pandoramed before you could draw another breath!"_**

Lilith held her breath. Pandoramed. No afterlife. No rebirth. You simply cease to exist.

Lilith wet her lips and wiped more blood from her chin. "W-What is it you want from me, Lord Fotis?"

Abrigor smiled, the Dark Lord smiling through her. As a demon herself. Lilith knew that smile. It was a _run for your life _smile. A smile that was everything but benevolent. It was a smile that all but guaranteed her survival. She was going to die, and when that fact dawned upon her within the split seconds of asking her question, a tear spilled from Lilith's cheek, leaving a dark purple trail.

_**"Fuel for the fire, dear one. Don't worry, this will only hurt for a second."**_

Another smile, even wider. Blackness spewed from between the demon's parted lips. Her laughter vibrated through the pitch black chamber.

_**"Y**_**_ou're mine, now..."_**


	27. Sagittarius

_**Wander. Your goal is near, Horseman.**_

_**Keep going. She is close. She is very close.**_

_**Don't fight us anymore. This will give you pleasure.**_

_**You deserve this, Death. You deserve to be pleased.**_

_**The power in her is valuable. This is what we need. Make us stronger, Horseman. **_

_**Serve us.**_

_**Even if it is for just a moment.**_

_**Serve us.**_

_**Serve us.**_

* * *

><p>Through him, the Shadows worked. The Shadows pushed his body on relentlessly, and Death could do little to stop himself through the sweet and powerful numbness that splayed all through him while he was forced to work. This... drug, was so powerful. So enticingly numbing.<p>

Death could feel again the folds of Sabrina's soft black gown, and see the droop of the sleeves as she brought her fair arms about her face, protecting herself. Her sweet face, appealing, pathetic, tormented by the pain of his attack and betrayal, appeared before him as vividly as life.

Sabrina wore a plain black dress, severe in its simplicity. A narrow belt held it at the waist and the sleeves were drooping into lovely angel-sleeves. She appeared like a queen. Beneath the folds of her ringlet bangs nestled the icy blue stone on her forehead. She always displayed it now. It had appeared to her sanctified in her eyes; made precious as material things sometimes are by being forever identified with a significant moment of one's existence.

A hundred times she had ran her fingers over the cold stone. Over and over again. It was a reminder of her power. Her coming to power.

She was so young that there came over her a sense of unreality as he attacked her, unyielding. He told of that rainy day drawing to its close, with the silver and the blue fading out of the west, and the night gathering its shadows to cover the faces of the dead. She could not believe that one of those dead was to be her. A spasm of resistance and rebellion seized and swept over her. Why was Death here with his beauty and his seductive breath if he was killing her? Why was she here? Why was she fighting back? What further had she to do with life and the living if she ultimately destroyed her love?

She, Luke, Pius and Ignatius had left the temple and turned into a level plain which had formerly been an old meadow. There were clumps of thorn trees here and there, gorgeous in their gloomy radiance. Some dragons were grazing off a freshly killed carcass in the distance where the grass was tall and silver and random white roses dotted the path. At the far end of the meadow was the towering lilac hedge, skirting the lane that led to the trail to the ocean, and the scent of its heavy blossoms met them like a soft and tender embrace of welcome.

Sabrina felt as if she had passed into a stage of existence which was like a dream, more poignant and real than life. There was the old gray bridge with its sloping eaves. Amid the blur of green, and dimly, she saw familiar faces and heard voices as if they came from far across the fields, and Death was there. Her lover Death; her living Death, and she felt the beating of her heart against her breast and the agonizing horror of his blackened eyes striving to destroy her. It was as if the spirit of evil and the awakening darkness had stripped the soul to her youth and bade her beg for mercy.

The real evils of her current situation was her horrid idea to tell the others to flee the scene. She was left all alone, against a Shadow Matter infested Nephilim.

He looked to have enjoyed himself, killing her, having her bleed into herself, making as a lovely lubricant. Cobalt blue everywhere. On the grass. On the white roses. On the bricks of the bridge. She would get much weaker, and end up not fighting back. The mild touch of her power sent shivers up and down the eldest Horseman's spine, making his skull feel numb, humming with the pain of it. Of course, he felt none of the pain, but she was. She felt every bit of it. EVery snapped bone. Every cut. Every violent thrust. All of it.

After he was finished with her dead body, Death wiped a bony hand across his hip, smearing Sabrina's cobalt blue blood across the folds of his trousers. Normally, necrophilia was a thing that would make him gag, but, while high on this Primordial drug, he had no sense of what he was doing. It wasn't sickening. His body was just pressing, further and further. He could not wake up. He could not wake up.

But somewhere in his mind, he was aware. He knew what was happening and was desperate to stop it. He wanted nothing more than to wake up. All he wanted was to wake up. He didn't want to kill his lover. He wanted to wake up. He didn't want to rape her corpse, he wanted to _wake up. _He didn't want to serve the Shadows, he wanted to **wake up**.

_"This isn't right! Let me out! Let me **OUT**! LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!" _

**_YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE WE DON'T WANT YOU TO, HORSEMAN._**

**_THERE'S NO USE IN FIGHTING US._**

**_YOU'LL SERVE US UNTIL WE BORE OF YOU._**

Death screamed and cursed every vile word he could fathom, and invented a few new ones. In the real world, while he continued to desecrate his lover's corpse, tears flooded over sunken in cheeks, threatening to drop onto the glistening, sweaty forearms hard at work holding the thick, lifeless thighs in place. He wept and screamed, crying out for the only voice who he thought could save him.

Death remembered why it was he loved Sabrina at that point. He loved her not for the way his angels adored her, but for the way the sound of her voice and the look in her eye could instantly silence his demons. She was strong, as he was. She was wise, as he was. And she was powerful. They were one in the same, despite their difference in age and blood. She was special; the one thing in Creation Death cared to fully open himself up to, and tell absolutely everything. In her power, he was humbled. In her beauty, he was grateful. In her light, he felt saved.

But she couldn't save him now. She couldn't even save herself, not from the Shadows, at least. Ebon power was useless against Shadow Matter. Useless against any power bequeathed by Fotis. They were both dark forces. They couldn't cancel each other out. She was gone. And he was doomed.

**_Where was she going again, Horseman? _**

**_The Kingdom of the Dead?_**

**_Yes, that is where she is headed. Your young Reaper is there as well, Horseman._**

**_Go there. Now._**

**_We will kill her and open the gate for our arrival._**

_"NO! I'm not going, damn you!"_

**_You have no choice, Horseman. We will take you._**

_"NO! Let me go!"_

**_YOU'LL GO WHEN WE SAY YOU CAN GO.  
><em>**

**_NOW..._**

**_LET US GET A MOVE ON._**

* * *

><p>This is a bad time. Especially since she was stuck in the Kingdom of the Dead waiting for her father to arrive so she could get this over with. She had everything ready; the crystal, the looking glass, and the bird. It was a dead bird, a small dove, but it was the best she could do. With the power of Fotis moving on to another host, she will have enough time to kill Death and retrieve her spirit. Trap the bloody parasite in the bird and kill it there. Then it would all be over. Fotis would have to return to her shadow dimension and the Primordials there would deal with her. Zodiac prayed for pandoramnation. She would do anything to achieve such a, far-fetched, yes, but clever idea.<p>

She could not believe that she was stuck doing this, but she was born with the gift, and Atrocor wasn't. He was a total loss. A waste of time. But she knew he would follow her anywhere, even in death. His spirit was near. She could almost hear his sobs of grief. His protests, denial, anger, begging to return, to see his angel one more time before she was changed, his whacking sobs. After a few hours of waiting, His ghost was silent. It was fast, but as a son of Death, coping with the loss was expected to be much faster. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and now, acceptance.

Maybe he wasn't a total loss. After all, he was her big twin brother, who loved her very much-

_"You're the most special woman in the world to me, sister! Nothing will ever happen to you, promise!"_

_"Yes there will. Something bad always happens. You cannot control the fates, brother."_

-She never cared much for him, though.

She was always so negative in her youth, and even more so in her womanhood. She supposed it had something to do with the death of her mother. She was never pleased with anything, not until her father died. That day, she had never been happier to be free of her tyrannical dictator, at last she was free, as well as her brother. Alas, he was devastated. Pitiful. Why could Atrocor never see things the way she did? He was always so attached to everything. So... emotionally invested.

Such a mistake.

Oh well. Now, he was out of the way. She had everything she needed from the future to preform the spell and save their future. A future where she might not hate her father as much, where Atrocor might make some sense, and she won't have to become a mother to her abandoned cousin at only thirteen. A future where everything made sense, and everything was safe.

Suddenly, she missed her little cousin. The Proxie Magdna she raised from a toddler. She missed the sound of her sweet lisp, remembering all of those times she had scolded the child, trying to get her to speak right, and it proving to be no good. Missed her adorable face, her beaming eyes that seemed happy no matter what. That moxie and upbeat nature that somehow put a smile on Zodiac's cold feature and made her feel that, for once in her life , she was-

She snapped that thought off before she finished it. She could never be happy. Not until this was completed. If she didn't get this exactly right, there would be no future for her. The curse would remain and then Karma...

No. She would not fail. If she did manage to fail, she would just have to remind herself to kill the little Proxie at a young age. She couldn't live through that life. Not again. Zodiac had been preparing for this moment her entire life. Training and training, for years and years on end.

Father had to die. It was the only way to save Karma. Save their worlds. Their universe.

* * *

><p>Uriel stood at the edge of the shore, stepping easily across the while sand while Lima trailed slightly behind on the rocks. Why that demon had a terror of the ocean, Uriel would never had known without the power of her Exaltion. It was strange seeing into the minds of people without the power to close themselves off from her, but at the same time, it was rather exciting! She had never expected to ever have the power to see into another's mind! Not even with the help of a mystic!<p>

Not only was the telepathy taking some getting used to, but she felt withing her a plethora of strange and powerful sensations and urges, as well as some knowledge she had never even imagined possible! She could recall now countless other worlds, teleportional laylines to access them, who those worlds fell under, what inhabited them, and so much more cultural knowledge of places she could never have imagined to have existed. Like the creatures that lived on this island. She told Lima as much, but it looked like the demoness wasn't interested in a lesson of culture at the moment. Too close to the ocean to learn.

But her knowledge was not limited to just telepathy and other worlds, no, there was countless other things she knew she was to learn. The switches jut flipped in her head all of the time! Even without the intention to do so! She was just learning things all of the time, and enjoying it. This must have been how Sabrina was feeling all of the time, being a fellow Ebon Sai.

Glassy blue eyes looked from the steel grey ocean to the demon walking steadily on the rocks, arms positioned at the demon's sides. Her mind was quiet, save for the mild hum of anxiety. She tried to seem collected, though. Cute. It was rarely seen, that nervousness, in the demoness's eyes, but when it was caught, it was both adorable and diluting. It was more natural to see Lima nervous than to see her stoically regarding everything and everyone around her. Besides being a Phantom Griever, Lucifer's right-hand demons, she was still Lima. She was still a person beneath all that leather and under the stoic frown.

_Your emotions are healing, which enables you to open to greater love. I will help you release anger and unforgiveness from your heart and mind._

The words the Ebon Dragon had spoken to her upon her Exaltion earlier that day. That was her task as an Ebon Sai, and she was now filled with the power and capability to do so. Perhaps she was on some new level of impathic, but she found herself feeling mildly recharged in the presence of other's emotions. like she was feeding on their feelings and using that power to her own advantage. like right now. Lima's nervousness was making Uriel feel almost warmed, like enjoying a glass of wine. Lima's anxious energies were being taken into Uriel's entity and being made something else entirely.

it was a pleasant feeling.

"How much farther?" Lima's voice grumbled, more a whine than she intended to sound.

Uriel smiled over her shoulder, black streaks slipping over her shoulders. "Not much further. We should be just about there."

"Where are we even going again? You were very vague earlier." the demoness asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm taking us to the Ebon Dragon's shrine. There, I can directly communicate with him and seek guidance on what actions or course of action we should take."

Magenta eyes blinked. Light brown hair obscured the right eye before Uriel could get a better look of it, although she knew it was filled with question. "You mean to tell me you can only talk to the Ebon... whatever at this shrine?"

"Well, yes and no. He can speak to me whenever he pleases. But I have to be here when I want to speak with him. Our relationship is rather complicated like that."

Another smile. The angel could tell by the scowl on the demon's freckled slate features that she was getting tired of her pleasant smiles after every vague or smart response. Uriel was having fun with her, so there was no stopping her yet. Lima pursed her lips together and turned away from the angel, her cheeks going from slate from dull violet at her snicker.

"Oh, come no, Lima. We're almost there. Chin up. It's only a matter of time before I ask what needs to be asked and we'll be on our way back! Thing's will turn up eventually." Uriel admonished, kicking a sandstone out from in front of her foot.

"You're surprisingly relaxed about this whole thing," Lima huffed dryly. "I mean, there is a Shadow Wielder at the temple, and here you are, playing around in the sand and smiling. _Smiling. _That looks bad to me. Should I be concerned?"

Uriel shook her head with a small laugh. She had no clue as to why she was feeling so relaxed. She wasn't at all worried, nor was she afraid, as she was a few days ago. She knew of the danger, and was aware of the terrible things happening at the temple across the ocean behind her, but she didn't worry. She supposed that things would turn up because she was getting help from her master. He did invite her here. Why would he not help her?

"Listen to me, Lima. No matter what happens back there, we will be fine. So will just about everyone else." the angel reassured.

Coldly. "Just about. Those were the key terms, Uriel."

For the first time all day, a frown graced the angel's lips. Just about everyone. Not all of them. Not all of her brothers and sisters were still safe. Maybe they were all already dead. Maybe Azreal was dead, or worse, Phoenix. She suddenly realized how cold and morbid she had just been. Smiling at the fact that countless people were dying behind her. Smiling like she had not a care in the world. Like it was all fine and dandy.

The angel suddenly came to a stop, slowly bringing her hands to her mouth, brows knitting together, looking like she had gotten sick. "Oh God. What am I doing?" she murmured. "People are dying and here I am smiling about it..."

Lima turned to face her companion again, scowl smothered by that look of genuine concern. "Uriel, I-"

"Is this what makes the Ebon Sais so terribly frightening? They smile in the face of death and dying? They couldn't possibly care less for mortal lives, could they? Is..." The angel's words trailed off as she slowly faced the ocean. The bleak, black ocean. The empty ocean.

She looked down at the sand. White and soft, and cold. The sand was cold. The air was cold. Cold as the smile she cast at the mention of death. Her shadow was dark. To her, it looked more like a simple black mass with wings, or other masses of being that resembled wings. What shadow she had become, she thought. A shadow of what she used to be.

Open minded. Patient. Considerate. Morbid. Something else. Not an angel, but something more complicated.

"Uriel," Lima's voice sounded, coming more relaxed than before. "Tell me something. Why were you so excited about the other creatures on this island? You didn't come off as the culturally curious type to me when I first met you. Has your new found Exaltion got anything to do with it?"

The angel looked up from her toes buried in the sand. Her eyes blinked, staring out ahead of her at the remainder of the shore line towards the dense bamboo forests and rocky ledges. She saw the water come in waves, crashing against the short cliff's surface, fanning out in the crystalline mists as it cascaded back into the black depths of the sea or up over the cliff's edge. She had to think about that question. Why suddenly did she care so much about people or things not like herself or what she was used to.

Because she was so close-minded before, that's why. She didn't care about anything other than her own kind, when she was truly honest with herself. If it wasn't like her, it was either a lesser being or evil.

At last, the angel spoke. "The worlds around you are stories. This whole universe is a book. If you don't travel, experience new things, you'll only be reading one page. I don't want that for myself anymore." Blue eyes were wet with mist, as well as some of Uriel's inner turmoil. "My master has given me a taste of things you cannot begin to imagine. Cultural things. Important things about the creatures and people around me. Through his eyes, I have seen wonders..."

"What kind of wonders, Uriel?" the demon asked in a low voice.

Slowly, angel and demon met one another's gaze. The few moments after that were still, and they just stared at one another for a while. When finally, the tear found the power in itself to eject itself from the line of Uriel's eye and slide down her cheek, her face smiled. Her eyes glistened, and her lips moved-

"I saw the birth of a star."

* * *

><p>Sabrina remembered dying, just as she remembered the pain before passing into that sweet oblivion. With a sense of apprehension, she wondered if the distant hum and shrill scream that lifted and drifted in to her meant she was to experience the transcendent transformation. The Ebon Dragon. There was absolutely nothing she could do about it if it were so. Still, she could remember that pain.<p>

She remembered fighting alone and savagely against her lover, bearing his teeth like a wild animal to a hare. She remembered the rain of brutal blows driving her to the ground, heavy boots slamming into her once she was there, and what could only be described as tiny knives stabbing into her everywhere at once, over and over again. She remembered the snap of bones, remembered the blood, so much blood, on his fists, on his face and torso. The terror of not having the power to fight the shadows back and having no breath to cry out against his breath to forgive him.

She remembered his eyes. The profound anguish that was frozen in it's depths. Within the surrounding blackness, the amber fires of regret burned through him. Burned through into herself and her dying being. She knew though, that in those eyes was his sorrow. His guilt, a look she knew all too well.

She saw those eyes now as she lay on her deathbed of silver grass and congealed blood. Saw his helpless guilt and terror; his suffering. With tenacious will, she clung to the image of his utter grief. It reminded her that he truly did feel for what his body was made to do. With that image in her mind, she was determined to kindle his spirits once more. She had to. He was her friend; her lover; her Black Bastion. It was her responsibility to keep him in line, more or less. It was her task to love him and keep him well.

Her eyelids peeled themselves open. She worked her tongue against the sugary wetness of her mouth, noticing for the first time how delicious her blood tasted. Her body felt stiff from the rigor mortis. Leaden Death, some would have called it. She tried to catch what awareness she could, but it all seemed adrift, bobbing into a vast, shadowy sea.

Slowly, carefully, she forced her stiff body to sit up. The fragrance of the fresh rain and lilac blossoms nearby filled her lungs upon her first breath. The Calling filled her ears. She was being summoned. Suddenly, pride filled Sabrina's being. Uriel had done it. Not only that, but she had realized just what she had to do. Not only did she have to realize what she could do once she was filled with the power of her compassionate ways, but she had just figured out what the FirstBorn Ebon Sai could do once she was angry. With bittersweet longing, the human found herself almost smiling at the thought of becoming one with her beloved angel.

But she wasn't going to smile now. She wouldn't show the world a smile until what needed to be done was done. As she walked, she could feel the oozing blood gush anew all over her torso and down her legs. It would be no trouble to fix, now that she was alive again. Not a one. The wounds here and there would close on their own in a matter of moments.

She looked down at the silver grass. Her shoes were gone.

What? Where'd they go? She never took them off, nor did she recall having lost them. Perhaps, it was when she was running away from the temple and was later scooped off the ground by Ignatius. She remembered loosing her footing then and having pulled off one of her shoes to smack the angel with it, but the rest after that was all a haze.

She did nail him with her shoe, though. _Fear la chanclas. Fear them..._

Sabrina raised her hand above her head and muttered an incantation. In a matter of seconds, blue lightening sprang from her fingertips and encased her in a screaming, hissing, and blinding cocoon. She told the warm and beautiful lights where she wanted to go, and in doing so, breathed the lightening into herself. The essence of the wicked tendrils of light changed immediately from menacing to silken and peaceful, and the screaming of the power died down to a mild hum.

Sabrina drew a collective breath of all of the power, which in turn began to turn her white. She glowed like a pearl sun before being condensed to the size of a pea and disappearing into thin air. Teleportation was such a fun thing to do, if you asked her.

_Well_, she thought, _here we go._ _Let's kill us a Shadow Wielder_.

* * *

><p>Rain started pouring from the sky in torrents as angel and demon squared off against a group of Shadow Wielders in the heart of the Ebon Dragon's open shrine. It fell through the open roof, soaking every person there. Thunder rumbled in the distance and off near the horizon, white lightening sprawled forth.<p>

"Tell me what happened to him. Where is the Angel of Death?" Uriel demanded coldly between clenched teeth. "Now."

Uriel stood in front of a harem of pale Shadow Wielders at the heart of the Hexagon-shaped shrine, her face red with anger. The skinny demoness at the heart of them was not a small woman, but she looked small in front of Uriel. There were six Shadow Wielders present, four demons, two archangel waited for a response with Lima at her side, fists clenched at her hips and an evil eye on the adversary.

She laughed, a vile sound, like she was choking, almost. The other girls joined alongside her, sharing in her mocking laughter. "I told you, Ebon Sai," she started as she licked her blackened lips. "He is no longer with us. Or with any of you fools."

Lima watched from a few feet away as the color from the angel's face drained away. Uriel looked whiter than a lily. She looked like she had just been stabbed through the heart. If she could have, she would have collapsed to the ground with agony, but Lima had a strong grip on her upper arms, holding her still.

"No," she whispered at last with wide, tear filled eyes.

"Yes. If it makes you feel any better, The Phoenix died with him." The scrawny thing hissed through a smile.

Uriel faltered ever so slightly. Her eyes leveled a glare as cold as the blackest winter night. They narrowed, the thin pupil dilated to fill nearly the whole of her iris, and the angel straightened. "You're a liar."

The violet youth gave a self-satisfied smile, pleased at her reaction. "As a matter of fact, Exalted one, the last I saw of her, she was fleeing this world for her life." she grinned. "Quite the hero, I should say. The cowardess that ran for her life whilst all around her died. A true hero, I dare say."

Run away? No. Phoenix would never run away. _Ever._ She was far too stubborn and protective to run away, not to mention attatched to her friends whom lived at the temple with her. This demon was lying. Lying through her bloody teeth, she was. But doubt came worming in and...

Uriel felt as if every nerve in her body had been shattered. Pain swept through her. She felt the most horrid of sorrow. She might have been lying about Phoenix, but Azreal was dead. That was no lie. At that moment, a look of dead calm took hold of the angel's features.

She slowly closed her eyes and rolled her head back. She opened her eyes again, staring into the grey sky above through the opening in the stone-cut roof, between the pillars of granite and cracks in their foundation. The accompanying demoness saw tears roll down Uriel's cheeks. Her fists were clenched at her sides, knuckles brightening, blue veins threatening to burst. Her lips moved, but Lima heard no recognizable words come forth. Only, just, a ragged whisper of some language Lima could not place.

Uriel closed her eyes again and took a deep breath.

Unexpectedly, she let out an unearthly scream. It went through all those present like a million white-hot needles of misery, it echoed though the hills, through the valleys, against all the trees, making them vibrate. Lima's breath was caught in her throat. As for every other dark party, it was simply taken from them. A few of the Shadow Wielders stumbled back a few paces, other collapsed from the sheer power of her scream.

If Lima weren't already paralyzed by fear, she would have been now. She knew that what Uriel must be doing was dangerous, possibly even to herself. In her mind, Lima found herself praying, a thing she had done very sporadically.

In a flash of white Light and lightening, Sabrina appeared, covered in strange blue fluids and looking like she had been in a fight. Like things couldn't be more confusing...

Uriel drew a breath, shaking violently, tears streaming from her eyes. She screamed again, a long, piercing, ungodly wail of untold heartache. The sound avalanched through the air. Pebbles danced on the stone floor. Water splashed and rippled in puddles around them. The demons covered their ears. Lima wished she could do so as well, had she been able to move against her fear. Sabrina stood still and coolly, holding that emotionless face of hers, like nothing was going on. Like Uriel was just throwing herself a temper tantrum.

She took another deep breath. It shook and trembled. More tears rolled. Her lips quivered. The angel made for a third scream, but she couldn't stand any longer; the pain of her sorrow was too much to bear. As was the pain of this magic. She fell to her knees, clutching the clumps of vines in her fists. The charcoal black bangs and snow white tresses fell in wisps over her shoulders. The wispy feathers fell from her nodes and the wings themselves, blackening as they hit the ground.

The third scream was far worse. The pure anger and sorrow of it tore through the air. Lima felt as though it would tear her entire body apart. Winds came from all around, circling the angel, growing even more so with her fury. In front of her, the two angels that had been squabbling there screaming had suddenly exploded in a collective mass of bloody chunks. Looked like angels couldn't take such explosive power.

Darkness came from nowhere, shadows seemed to be drawn to Uriel. The power from within her took the very light away, pulling the darkness as it did the wind. Her icy blue eyes rolled back into her skull, glowing a bright white. The sigil on her forehead glowed a bright blue, as did the rounded square-shaped stone in her chest. Lima nearly choked with the terror of what was happening. The surrounding demons were terrified, if not confused, as to what was going on as well.

Sabrina, on the other hand, knew of this magic, and she knew it would come to no good end. For the demons, of course. For her, for Uriel, it was a good thing. Despite how much sorrow and love and hate Uriel was pouring into her screams, it would all turn out to be a good thing. After all, an Ebon Sai's emotions were healing, no matter how destructive.

Uriel, screaming, collapsed onto her side, curled up on the ground and buried her head in her hands. The tears continued to fall, pouring from her eyes like blood spewed from a freshly cut wound. Light was sucked into her. In her mouth, Sabrina could see it in her, shining in the back of her throat. Her eyes glowed a piercing white. Darkness fell everywhere. Where the human stood, it was black as night. The only light now was Uriel, shining like the light at the end of a tunnel.

Thunder and blue lightening tore viciously throughout the black sky, flashing rapidly in every direction, over and over until the sky looked to have been burning. The thunder coalesced with her fury, becoming part of her indescribable scream.

The ground shook. Her scream went beyond sound, to something else entirely. All around her, the ground cracked open in ferocious tears. Pillars of blue light shot up from the cracks, vibrating, soon being sucked into Uriel. She was a glowing form of diving light in a sea of blackness. It was terrifying, but even still, the most beautiful sight.

Her scream stopped suddenly, jerking her body still. The tears stopped. Slowly, the angel came to her feet, and although she glowed like a white sun, her face was dark with anger. Her skin was white. Her dress stood out in stark relief against the darkness, waving about her like a flame in the wind. She turned her head, turning icy eyes of fury toward the other Ebon Sai, to which by some invisible sign, approached the glowing angel.

Sabrina, in her black dress and blue stained skin, reached forth and drew Uriel to her breast. She was about a head taller than the angel. She looked like she was smiling, despite that emotionless face, and kissed Uriel's brow, speaking something in that strange tongue. The two embraced, (getting a tad too close for Lima's liking,) and suddenly began to spark with lightening.

The two illuminated one another, glowing brighter and brighter each second. The demons hissed and covered their eyes, all including Lima, who now made her arms and legs work. Sabrina and Uriel began to dissolve in each other's light, and looked to be... coming together?

When at last the light began to succeed, Lima looked up from her arms to a horrid sight: Sabrina and Uriel were gone. In their place was some woman Lima had never seen, with long white ringlets, big blue eyes, feathery black and white wings, and two stones. Matching Ebon stones; one in the chest, one in the forehead. The stone in the forehead looked to have a huge slit pupil, right down the middle. A third eye. She wore a dress similar to that of Sabrina's, cut in a V-shape at the neck and coming down in angel- sleeves that were much too long for her slender arms. The rest was just beautiful white skin and exquisite features.

Lima looked again. The stones, those eyes, the lips...

She drew a gasp of horror. Somehow, someway, Sabrina and Uriel had _become one_ with one another. They shared now, a physical vessel.

Lima shook in horror as the creature opened her mouth, drawing her breath. She was weary of another scream, however, she didn't scream again. She did something far more terrifying than scream.

"Come to us," She whispered, barely a breath.

There was a sound coming from the cracks in the earth, echoing into the air. In a tremendous flash of light, Lima watched as giant, scaly, serpentine reptiles crawled out from the light, hissing and screeching. Their pitch black scales shimmered with the white tunnels, reflecting the light from the pale blue cracks in the earth. They all crawled over to the woman, their huge heads bowed in submission. Their eyes were exactly like their adversary's: icy blue with the thin slit pupil. Everything else was an intense black. Their heads held white-tipped spines all around the base of their jaw and the crowns of their skulls that ran down the backs of their long, thick necks, which rose from immense bodies. Their sinewy tails also held these white-tipped spikes, but mostly on the ends of their tails.

The woman raised her arm and pointed to the remaining Shadow Wielders. The dragons fixed them, snarling loudly. They flexed their wings, powerful muscles rippling beneath the glossy, pitch-black interlocking scales on their backs and shoulders. Razor-sharp teeth sprouted inside their snarling lips and lines their long muzzles. One beast snorted, and leapt for the closest demon to him: the plucky violet one.

"Find any more of The Dark Lord's followers here and destroy them all." the creature's heavenly voice said over all of the destructive sounds, over the screams and grunts of dying demons and screeching Shadow Matter.

The beasts showed their understanding of these orders and flew about in a single circle above the shrine before flying off into the distance toward the ocean. Toward the temple.

Then suddenly, a ferocious flash of light tore the darkness away, and the world was returned.

Lima felt her muscles return to alertness, the paralysis ending. Her head turned and she looked around her, at the dark blood splattered and sprayed all across the stone floor, staining the white roses that grew in vines which crept up the stone columns, the unrecognizable bodies of the Shadow Wielders, all having been skinny little girls, barely even women yet.

The demoness looked again to the still glowing form of this... creature, whom had once been her acquaintance. She stared about the stone floor, surveying her pet's work. Whatever emotions her face portrayed, looked none too pleased. As a matter of fact, she looked disgusted and enraged.

She brought her white hands up, running her fingers through the black and white curls. Her eyes gazed at things Lima could not see. Her eyes were in another world. Her eyes were focused on distant memories, of her lover; her father; her best friend.

"Who are you?" Lima found herself whispering. She quickly sucked her lips through her teeth, though.

Glass eyes of a terrifying blue focused on the demoness, all three of them. Lima had never felt more terrified in all her life.

But a smile came to those blue lips, and the eyes softened for her. Lump in her throat, Lima stared as the tall creature approached her, cupping her freckled cheeks with surprisingly warm hands. She leaned over and planted a soft kiss on the demon's forehead, which sent ice cold shivers down the other's spine.

_"We are one, Lima. That's it. We are the same, but all in one."_ She said in that strange voice.

Lima stared dumbly into brilliant blue eyes, forcing herself to blink. "Wh-what have you done? What was that?!" She began, sounding more paniced than she intended. "What the literal **hell** was all that?!"

The creature smiled and gave a little laugh, which just got Lima angry.

_The Calling. The Gizyax Calling. Something you needn't worry yourself over, my dear."_

Lima scowled. "Why not?"

_"Because I said so. Besides, something like that would never harm you, so you don't need to be afraid any longer."_

Slate blue cheeks flushed violet. "I was never afraid! I was caught off guard!"

_"You're a poor liar."_

The frown deepened. "Damn you woman, why was-"

_"Because I love you, Lima, you were unharmed by that whole escapade. The Calling is just a manipulation of an Ebon Sai's emotions needed to power ancient necromancy that cannot be done unless the Ebon Sai loved someone very deeply. That amount of sorrow and hatred can kill those not strong enough to handle them. Like those two angels who died just from the Calling itself, not from the dragons." _She smiled again. _"Do you understand?"_

Grudgingly, the Griever nodded. "I get it. But why did you and Sabrina... you know..." The demoness pressed the tips of her fingers together to emphasize what she was trying to say, which brought another laugh from the tall Ebon creature.

_"Because Sabrina isn't really alive. She was killed by Death, whom we both know is infected. I needed her strength to be able to carry out our Master's orders."_

"What were his orders?"

Another little laugh. _"To send a few of his chosen to kill what Shadow Wielders invaded his home. He doesn't like trespassers all that much, and those nasty little brats came here without a formal invitation."_

Well, that was good. At least Lima knew now what was going on. She felt less bothered by this whole ordeal now that the whole "becoming one" thing was cleared up. She found herself being grateful that Uriel hadn't gone mad from her grief. In fact, now that she thought on it more, she found herself smiling.

_"Alright. This is good. This is very good. Now we have to leave. The Kingdom of the Dead awaits us there." _The Ebon vessel declared as she tossed some white curls behind her shoulders.

"What are we doing going there? Have you forgotten about-"

_"My temple? No, I haven't. My pets are taking care of that. But right now, we have to go there. My husband is to meet me there."_


	28. Capricorn

Immediately, the atmosphere darkened. The room, the very air itself grew thicker and heavier with the negative energy Death carried inside of him. It left horrible afterimages of the twisted and evil force that corrupted him in Zodiac's vision, as well as her very being. She may be blind to the physical details, but there was nothing about him but a pitch black mass. The Shadows.

It was then that Zodiac became nervous. She had not expected him to be _that_ infected. There was so much darkness in his entity, that she was more so taken back by it. No longer was the air about him that pale blue and dull grey she was so used to as a child, but instead it was now completely black, like the Horseman was etched out of the fabric of reality, nothing but a black hole before her.

She straightened in her seat and leveled her features, making sure to look as if she wasn't phased by his presence. Even if he wasn't so infected, she would be a tad reluctant to show her true intentions yet. Not until she was absolutely ready. Until she knew he was ready.

"Greetings, Horseman," the youth started, stroking the arms of the throne, tapping their cold surfaces with her long nails. "I've been waiting for you for a while now.

A small smile. _**"We know. We were all eager to end you here. We've heard that you are in need to... discuss something?"**_ the Shadows spoke through him, a sinister, vile sound.

The child straightened even more, if that was at all possible, and sharply inhaled through her nose. "Well, I hope you have the time. I certainly wouldn't like to be a bother to you. I know how busy you all are, what with taking over the whole of creation and everything. Very inspired, by the way. But, forgive me for prying, didn't you fail at this whole thing once before?"

As a charcoal brow rose over diamond blue eyes, amber ones narrowed to murderous slits. The Horseman grimaced, but it soon simmered to an almost smile. A laugh came forth, soft and exultant, but one in the shape of sinister intent.

_**"We might have been... ill-prepared once before, child, but we can assure you now that we have everything we need to make this universe our own.**_ _**But you already knew that, didn't you?"**_

A snarky chortle escaped the child's lips as she rolled her neck about. She smiled in spite of herself and wet her lips with a look of what can only be described as sheer arrogance. "You're quite the old fool, eh, Death?" she winced in mock foolery. "Oh, wait? He no longer has control? I take it he was quick to possess, the feeble-minded man. So much guilt... so much sorrow... A very productive and easily mounted host."

Death's wicked grin turned into yet another frown. **_"You're a troublesome girl, Zodiac," _**his voice called, echoed by the darkness within. _**"But at last, that trouble will come to an end. This little rebellion of yours will be crushed, I can promise you that much. Even as you sit here, dying before you have twitched a finger. The Phoenix's foolish little tantrum will be brought to an end. You should have come to your senses sooner. Our kind only appeals to destruction. Most Nephilim see their duty to their fellow man. Your efforts to save everyone have all been for naught."**_

The possessed Horseman swept an arm out, as in mock introduction. Harvester then sprang to life, not only appearing taller and darker than it normally did, but also engulfed by an alien dark-violet aura that sang with bloodlust. Black and amber eyes twinkled before the young Reaper as she gracefully stood from the Eternal Throne, stepping from the raised platform onto the cold stone floor.

_**"An appropriate place for you to die, don't you think, my child? The Eternal Throne, a dying place fit for a young queen."**_

Zodiac's features twisted into a scowl. "I am no queen-" Ivory fingers clawed as she called forth Separator. "And I am not your child. I am not your _kind._ I am a Blood Reaper. I am a knight of _Eternal_ _Justice!" _She spoke through clenched teeth. "And I am _so_ much better than you.'

Death watched as white-hot sparks of lightening bloomed around the blade as it grew from it's original height and expanded downward. The bloom of light turned a deep blue, as did the young Reaper's eyes. A scream of rage came forth as the Reaper lunged for him with impossible speed. She came slashing at him and trying to smash his face with the flat of her blade, but Death was able to deflect and dodge her blows. He seized the girl's wrist, receiving a gash to the chest in retaliation. Despite Zodiac being able to fight back, her opponent was managing to rip into her arms and throat, cobalt blue blood spilling forth.

Again, Death tried to grab at her throat, but his bony fingers slipped from the wet skin. It was than that he raised Harvester. He unintentionally focused all of his energy, all of his concentration on the being before him. That target. The prey.

He swung at her middle, her legs, her neck, but she was far faster, and attacking him just as savagely. Too many times she was too close, thin white fingers clawing at his face and eyes. It seemed as though the Horseman was fighting himself. He knew this child, child of his own blood, and knew she was taught well. She was smart; she was fast. She was everything he was tenfold. Death knew he needed to be much faster, though, in order to defeat such a foe.

But he didn't want to fight her. No, he wanted to know her. He wanted to say, or think at least, that she reminded him of Harania. But his mind was Darkness, however, wanted her dead more than anything. The voices whispered all of the horrid things they would do to her corpse, he soul, all with her father's body. They wanted her eliminated, and Death was powerless to stop them.

Amid the blur of the Reaper in front of him trying to cleave him in two, Death reached forth and grazed Harvester across the girl's throat. Immediately after, he closed his bony fingers around the bloody neck again. Zodiac grabbed at his wrist to try and pull him away, she tried to face away, to break free of his grasp, but he was already crushing her windpipe.

She spread her legs, making it harder for the Horseman to flip her over, and with her free hand, she brought Separator forth and held tight as the Nephilim twisted and fought. His grip around her throat tightened. Still, Zodiac fought, and still, she felt like her insides were beginning to tear apart. Still, she fought on, not wavering in her efforts for even a single second, blinded completely by her rage and purpose. She could not fail at this, for if she did, if she didn't trap the shadows where they fell, they would escape and be lost to her forever.

She was loosing so much blood. Her strength and speed was fading. She was convinced, though, that she was stronger then the Nephilim before her. Perhaps, she thought she was stronger because her being was pure of the Shadows. Or, perhaps, it was simply her arrogance that led her to believe that she could accomplish this deed on her own. If only she had her brother with her, who was just as precise a fighter as she...

Death's eyes widened considerably when the young Reaper suddenly and swiftly severed his left arm from his body, along with one half of Harvester. It dropped to the stone floor with a loud _thud_.

A roar of fury erupted, black ooze spilled forth from where Death's arm had been cut at the elbow. While half of Harvester lay on the ground, it's twin came swinging in a brilliant arc for the girl, slicing off a mass of ringlet curls as it came from below. She dodged that attack with a simple side step to her right, but Death had seen that coming. He'd seen it all along. After all, she was dominant with her right side.

He spun Harvester about, one last time from below, and brought the blade up. It sang with lust; the lust to spill blood, to take life. It entered the point of no return, right into the child's abdomen and stopped her writhing almost instantly. For Zodiac, the world went white with pain, but Death watched on as continued to watch as she looked to be processing what had just happened.

She looked... surprised, to say the least. Black brows bunched together in a look of anguish and pain that Death knew all too well: the look of Sudden Death. She had not anticipated that move, and therefore fell victim to it. Her blue eyes beheld his, and for a moment, Death, the real Death saw her, and was in awe. She looked just like him. More softer; more feminine and gentle, but if Death were a woman, this creature before him would be what she looked like.

Blue lips quivered as she gasped for air, and slowly; very slowly, her head and eyes fell to the place where the blade had landed. She breathed out a single word upon looking back up into his eyes: "No-."

The Reaper's body struck the ground limply, clutching her stomach with her arms. She sucked in every breath she could, but only exhaled masses of cobalt clots and bubbles of blood. She clawed at the stone, trying to crawl to him, as if in one final attempt to do something, anything to him. The Horseman wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but the Shadows delivered a sickening kick to her face, sending her reeling across the floor.

_**Take a look, Horseman. We can feel you holding your breath in there.**_

_**Take a look at your beautiful daughter, come from another time, in an attempt to save her beloved family.**_

_**She risked everything to do what she could to make sure her brothers and sisters would be safe.**_

_**That all would be safe from our reign.**_

_**But in the end, it was all for naught.**_

_**Sound familiar?**_

Death watched as the Shadows continued to assult the dead body of the child until there was nothing left of her than a bleeding pulp. A teary-eyed, blue-blooded pulp, who died knowing she failed in her mission to save her family. Her brothers and sisters. Everyone she ever loved.

Such a selfless task she must have burdened herself with, Death thought. Such guilt she must have felt in her final moments.

**_How does it feel, Horseman?_**

**_To know that the child was just as weak and pathetic as you are?_**

**_We could have taken her, but It was just as much fun to taste your sorrow while we destroyed her._**

**_How does that make you feel, Horseman?_**

**_Death?_**

**_How does she make you feel?_**

Far a second, in his mind, Death saw her face, not in her death state, but while she was alive. He saw her eyes, blue as her mother's, and her small smile. She was smiling at him. At him?

Her lips moved, and no words came forth, but Death knew what she was saying. The words empowered him, just as they might have empowered others.

_"We are not weak and pathetic. We are Nephilim. Cursed union of angel and demon, pawns of the Primordials. We have power unimaginable, and this parasite thinks it can still win? We have a fighting chance. You have a fighting chance. Just stop thinking that just because this is a Primordial force, you as a mortal creature are powerless to stop it. You have the power within you to resist. I now. I have seen it, in your eyes."_

Something snapped inside of the eldest Horseman, and for the first time in a long time, Death felt something surge though him; a hidden light. A hidden power.

_"Fight back, father. Show the Shadows what it really means to be a Nephilim."_

Death's body drew a long breath, and the Shadows hissed through out him. Amber eyes looked up to the sky, up into the grey and green sheen of light and dust above, and he smiled.

"We're done here." his own voice suddenly barked.

**_What? This is impossible!_**

**_How could you-_**

"I am Death! Did you honestly think you could keep my mind on this silly string of yours forever?" He breathed, knuckled turning white around Harvester's hilt. "You can't control me forever, that much is for sure. I know how this all works now. I understand. You could say, I figured you out."

_**Fool! You dare think us incompetent! **_

_**We aren't finished with you yet, Horseman!**_

Death smiled, really smiled. "Yes you are."

And then he spoke. By the help of Zodiac's spiritual message, Death gained knowledge of the words, and in a moment of his stillness, the most peaceful the nephilim had ever been in all his life, he uttered the ancient words, in the long since dead language:

_"The Darkness is to be purged of this vessel, no longer to possess this flesh. The embodiment of the Dragon of Death protects me. I cast you from this entity with the light and chill of the Dragon, and henceforth, you are not to return. The Ebon Dragon guides us, in death and in dying. In his wisdom we are humbled, in his power we are spared. This vessel belongs to the Dragon, and Darkness shall not creep here."_

The Darkness shrieked from within, and Death could feel the wretched parasite tearing through his chest. It wailed a most unholy and terrible sound, and it felt as through thousands of razor sharp claws were tearing at him from his insides. As he was told, Death envisioned a brilliant Blue light entering his being through his head, driving the evil out of him, and repeated the ancient prayer again and again.

From his heart came an explosion of black ooze and smoke, hissing and screeching like it were some kind of animal. For a moment, It took the shape of a spider, attempting to crawl away toward a new host, but that would prove to be a mistake.

On a black leather string around the dead Reaper's chest was a long silver mechanism of glass and metal, like a small electroscope, and inside of that looked to be a small crystal. The crystal glowed a bright white the closer the Shadows came, until it began to pull the wretched disease into it. Oh, how the Shadows fought to get away from it all. But some force far more powerful than they continued to suck them in, harder and harder until there was nothing of the darkness left but the stains and residue on the stone floors.

As the last of the Darkness was sucked into the looking glass and into the crystal, a haze of blue mist sprang to life from it. Death recognized this anomaly: they were souls; possibly souls of those who were claimed by the Shadows.

That meant that his brothers and sister were a part of this cluster of light.

With a swallow and a sigh, Death cast the mist into the air, sent with a prayer, to one who could handle these souls. Sabrina was dead, so there was only one other person who could disperse these spirits properly. To Azreal. He knew the souls would be in good hands with the Angel of Death, giving Death more time to focus on getting back to Shaurna.

As well as give his daughter the proper burial.

Death let himself cast a weary gaze down at the body of his child. Bone of his bone. Flesh of his flesh. Blood of his blood. The young woman before him was everything he was; pieces of him he both knew too well and had never seen. She was his power, his prowess, his strength, his passion, his wisdom; she was possibly his everything. She displayed such courage, such arrogance, which he had to have known was a trait of his. She was so brilliant, both deadly and elegant, as he was.

Involuntarily, Death dropped to his knees. She was an absolute mess. Why did he feel so awful? Death had seen and done many things considered immoral, but this was different. He felt like he wanted to die. Every fiber he had wanted to kill himself for what he had done.

_Damn that Darkness... Damn all of it..._

As tenderly as he could, he brought her head into his lap. Her raven ringlets were matted with her dark blue blood, some stuck to her face. She looked like a royal. Beauty beyond anything he had ever seen. Fair white skin, blue lips, blue eyes, long, pretty arms. They lay draped elegantly out beside of her, splattered in the warm cobalt fluids, despite the thrashing she had received. She looked so much like himself, he knew his own features well enough to know when a choice few stared back at him. She looked so peaceful, but it didn't diminish the look of frozen ferocity on those features; the way her eyes stared out at nothing, yet everything, gave him a feeling of omnipotence. This was the BloodBorn Reaper the prophecies spoke about. She had the pluck for such a terrible title.

A tear emerged from Death's bloodshot amber eye, trickling down the bridge of his nose, hanging in a drip at the end. It tickled, so he angrily wiped it off. He never should have inhaled. This whole mess could have been avoided if he had just listened. Cast his arrogance aside and listened to the truth of it all. He had been warned once, and he thought he could do better, as he always did.

Well he was wrong, very wrong.

The Horseman brought an arm up under the girl's back and lifted her up from the floor with aid from his leg. She was light, thank God. It was near impossible for him to lift her high enough to carry her, so he set her down easy. Confound this child severing his arm like that. It was his arm. He needed that.

He supposed he couldn't give he a proper burial then, since there was no moving her anywhere else. Death just sat there and stared at her for a while, feeling more flustered and dizzy the more he did so. He was starting to come down from that dreadful high, he thought. In a matter of minutes after he expelled the Shadows, the eldest Horseman started to feel sick and dizzy. Vertigo threatened to smother him, now, so without much more thought, he decided to move on. Get out of this wretched place.

He had no clue what to do now. Where he should go, or who he should speak with about this. No one would know. All of the Exalted ones were dead. The Shadows told him so. Could they have been lying? Perhaps. But evil doesn't always lie. They will tell you the truth if they know it will crush you. It's the same wherever, no matter what kind of evil.

So what to do now?

It felt like seconds before Death realized he was standing on the banks of a river somewhere in the Kingdom of the Dead somewhere. Perhaps he would just sit here and think...

* * *

><p>The heavy door thundered free of the hinges and Ezekiel was startled awake by the crashing of the door on the cold floor. The angel's back ached, his head was numb, his shoulders stung, but he was alert as of now. He rolled swiftly onto his side, face to face with a small red-haired child with terror filled teal eyes. She was an angel, no-doubt, but a baby, at best. Her wings were like little puffballs, incapable of any flight whatsoever, but so precious. Ezekiel had never seen her before.<p>

She tugged off the sheets and batted at Ezekiel's sore arms with her tiny fists, crying and yelling at him to get up for her, to run away. She sounded like she knew who he was, and she looked furious that he was just staring so stupidly at her. He didn't know why she was in a fit, especially since he had no clue what was happening.

Another crash shook the foundations of the room, and a tiny grey creature bolted into the room. Ezekiel stared as she ran over to the side of the bed and scooped the little angel into her arms. "Frangipani, quick! We have to leave!" she chattered over some other language. Her big black eyes blinked over at Ezekiel, who still sat in his bed in complete and utter confusion. She gave him a look more befuddled and upset than the child had given him.

Speaking from Silvian to English, she swatted at his arms and proceeded to make her way to Ezekial's window, unlatching the hinges and shoving them open. "What are you doing sitting there, angel?" the sprite hissed nervously. "Get up! _Fica!_ Hurry, Please! You have to come with us! Come on, _Amyrijo, _come on!"

Something was definitely amiss here, and Ezekiel felt he had no choice but to follow along, unsure if what was happening was a dream, or some kind of freakish hallucination. Ezekiel had never seen a Sprite before, or that child, and he had no clue what was happening around him, or why they were all climbing through the window. He made it a point to ask while he was escaping for his life, but the woman in front of him didn't immediately respond.

"Something happened... Very bad, very bad... People are dying, Phoenix is gone... We have to escape, before it's too late!" She called back to him while she and the child slid down the curve of the tiled roof to another level.

Ezekiel slid to an immediate halt. "P-Phoenix is gone?" amethyst eyes blinked about a dozen times. "Are you certain?"

"As certain as I can be! Lucky-Chan saw it! He said she just dissipated into flames while she was trying to think of a way out! She was trapped and she vanished!"

Ezekiel willed himself to move on and followed the grey woman in utter disbelief. That was impossible. Phoenix would have never just ran away from a fight, he knew her too well. But, this all seemed pretty dire. Where he looked, smoke billowed forth from the windows and chimneys. Screams poured forth from the temple and angels flew this way and that, from all directions. Occasionally, he saw the shape of what looked like a demon staggering in the middle of a path, wobbling and swaying some more before beginning to chase after anything that grabbed its attention.

After a few minutes of painfully quick and nimble runs and dives off of the tall roof and onto a high bridge, Ezekiel was being half carried away by the winged grey woman, already burdened with the strange child. They all twisted and turned, often times running in circles, and eventually made it to the grand anteroom toward the entrance. There was a demon there, slim and spindly, with pitch black eyes, backward bent knees, and a sickly painted face. The look of both the twisted grin and painted smile made Ezekiel's skin crawl. While he stood frozen alongside the horrified Sprite, the angel child stood screaming, not in terror, but in anger.

Again and again, she screamed.

"Frangipani, why you scream?" Pius whispered over to the angel.

"It was a little something I figured out while I was running out of the temple. All of that noise and such made the demon real focused an' all, but when it was just me screaming, just one person, it looked like she got confused. Like the one sound was distracting her." The redhead sniffed and rubbed her nose, screaming again. Indeed, the demon looked like the lone sound was giving her issue, and it got to the point where the demon just decided to turn her attention elsewhere.

"I don't understand what's happening here,"Ezekiel scoffed. "What is all of this?! What's happening?!"

"Shadow Wielder came out of nowhere and started infectin' and killin' everybody." The child spoke up. "First, it was that demon we just saw, the real scary lookin' one. Then it was more. The Lady Horseman got infected, an' she died-"

"Lady Horseman? Dead?" Ezekiel breathed.

"Yep. They're all dead. All of 'em. And Mamma ran off with Lucky to see if they could help any more survivors. Olivia tried to help me out, but she-"

"What happened to Olivia?! Does she knew where Phoenix and Zephyr went to, exactly?"

The young angel took Ezekiel's hand and pushed Pius to move on. "Olivia died, Ezekiel. " She made a face that looked all too much like Phoenix. A face that looked angry, looked like a stare that could cut through steel, but her eyes... She'd seen something terrible.

Then, the angel came to a decision. "Fine then. We're getting out of here. I think I can get us somewhere safe, but it will take a lot of effort." With what little strength he had left, Ezekiel bade himself to push on, and made a plan to get him and his two companions to a safe place; the safest place he could think of.

* * *

><p>The sky was streaked with reds and golds by the time Phoenix reached the ruins of this place. The surrounding jungles were cast in a deep shadow. The giant pyramid in the distance seemed to glow in the honeyed light.<p>

There were some once elegant structures, some crumbling, that looked to have been part of a larger place, just as she had assumed. Here and there on the mountain's side, parts of walls still stood, their stones covered by vines and wood, just as they have been below, but covered in a rust of lichen instead. It was a delightful contrast of features. Much more appealing to her than the dull and depressing colors that Shaurna had to offer. That was a rainy forest, but this place was a _jungle._ Much more tropical, more pleasant.

Phoenix stepped away from the trail. The building to the left of the trail was large by any standard. It wasn't as big as the huge spire she had passed during her walk in the jungle, but it was still pretty huge. Looked to her to be almost as tall as the Argent Spire itself, maybe even taller.

The doorway stood empty. Root and vine tangled what remained of the frame, still partly covered in dark red runes. Inside, the walls echoed with her footsteps. A stone bench sat in one room of a roofless building. The halls divided, leading to, she guessed, rooms at either corner of the room at the end of twisting halls with most of its square ceiling still in place, but only in a few places Phoenix passed. The Warren rooms. In a larger room, a stone fountain had been long since dry. It was tanned and cracked with age.

Like all the rooms at the side, they faced the jungle. Hallow ovals gaped where windows once shielded the room from wind and rain. Beyond, through the openings, was a view past the canopy of the jungle to the blue haze of mountains beyond.

This was a place where visitors and supplicants to the pyramids and ziggurats were to wait for admittance to the grand temple. During their wait, they would have a great view of the landscape and the wildlife of this fantastic world. She would have loved to have shown the others all of this. They would love it.

As she stood staring, she could almost imagine it there, just like an ancient Aztec-type ziggurat. A place of grandeur and might. This was where The Phoenix herself, along with her Exalted Sais would reside and practice their control over their magics. The Phoenix herself- her mother- had stood where she now stood, looking out at that same jungle.

Phoenix strolled around outside in the fading light, past the pyramids, peering into the smaller huts and still magnificent garden structures touching the carved walls. Even though it was all still crumbling, it was more easy to say that, once again, she felt like she was home. Just like-

No. Stop thinking about that. Never ever bring that up again. That was nothing to think about now. That voice in the fire told her to come here for a reason, she she was determined to figure out why. In times like this, the last thing Phoenix would do was listen to some strange man's voice in the fire, but, at the time, she was in a ring of fire surrounded by Shadow Matter. It hurt her, so badly, it did, to leave everyone behind and flee to another world, but... she felt like she had to. She felt like it was, in some twisted way, the only way to ensure everyone's safety.

She stood in the center of the broad path that ran through the center of the jungle around the pyramids, feeling that thin black sheet billowing out beside her. She almost wished right now that she had been decent enough to grab a change of clothes. She tried to think of what it was that brought her here, but found herself envisioning the kind of place this world could be. _Damn ADD. _ It was practically hers, though. She tried to get a feel for it.

She could make this a place for everyone; Angels, Demons, Nephilim, Humans; she could make this a home for every creature imaginable.

_"You have the ability to unite all of us, my love. Your father would be proud of you."_ Sabrina had said once.

Phoenix idly stroked her locket with her thumb. There it was again. She could feel it deep in the pit of her stomach; in her soul. That fire.

"I will make you proud, father. I won't let you down."

The young Firebird continued to stroll through the jungle, striding through a jungle alive with the wonder and magic of its youth. She passed along a part of a wall, and between the hallow stone buildings, feeling the timeless quality of the place, feeling the life that it would have again. She knew the potential of this place had. Just thinking about it, her HeartStone glowed brighter, warming, almost, to a burning sensation. It filled her with a dizzying feeling of blithe. She felt like she was floating-

Suddenly, as if her mind had finally caught up with her, she jerked to a halt. She looked down and found herself completely breathless. Another step would have taken her out onto thin air. Firebirds soared in the updraft not twenty feet straight in front of her. Vibrant in their resilient rainbow color.

Phoenix felt as if she were standing on the edge of the world. The view was dizzying. The hairs on the back of her neck stiffened. More lied beyond the edge of her feet; God it was glorious.

It was a canyon, of sorts. Across the yawning chasm of lush jungle, poured a magnificent waterfall. Trees stood taller than the tallest building she had ever seen, even at such a great distance. Chirping and trilling of every kind sounded against the rush of water and sounds of the jungle. On the horizon, a volcano puffed huge clouds of smoke.

She heard some sporadic cries and bellows of dinosaurs in the distance, and looked ahead to see pterodactyls flying over the canopy, calling to each other. Stone platforms floated in place over the top of the canopy, and a few hundred feet below her. They moved about, stopping at different pyramids that sat on the edge of the canyon's walls. It was a strangely magical spectacle.

Phoenix felt her cheeks tighten into a smile, a laugh escape her throat. This place was truly hers. It was her second or third home, as well as a home for her family. Thinking more on it, Phoenix assumed that the other angels would love to see this! Frangipani would love all this! Especially the dinosaurs!The blonde youth found her heart bouncing in place at the thought of bringing her family here to experience this magistracy! What wonderful things they would all see together-

-But they were all back at the temple. Stuck with the demon and the Shadow Matter.

Phoenix let her shoulders slouch forward, let her chin drop to her chest. It was at the point where she started to cry again, letting her decision of running away from all her loved ones resurface, making her feel like the coward she truly was. At least, that's how she felt now.

A voice came from behind, clear as day, as if out of nowhere. "Do you not think that on a day like this, miracles might happen? When this whole earth is vibrant with life, does it not seem to you, Phoenix, that The Phoenix might for once relent and give us back our dead?" He spoke very low, advisedly, and impressively. In his voice was an old cheerful sound which was rather habitual, and there was blithe in every line of his visage. In his voice, also, was what Phoenix knew as a strong Australian accent.

She gazed at him with eyes that were full of supplication and a certain terror of joy. It was him. She knew those azure blue eyes anywhere. _Him_.

Michael.

* * *

><p><strong>God, his chapter sucks. I think I'm gonna regret posting this one, but right now, I don't care. All I want right now is a drink... and maybe a shower. I don't know... Kids will do this shit to you.<strong>

**All this travel and nonsense is killing me, what from Melbourne, to Superior, and then Five days on the road to Kentucky... Geeze, this is all so stressful...**

**All I want to do right now is curl up and sleep... That's all I want...**

**That's all...**


End file.
